The Forlorn Sea
by Carmela Darling
Summary: Part One. Christine is brought onto one of Her Majesty's ships to explore the world with her husband. However, strange new feelings bring her closer to another. Will outside forces stop a love that lasted through time? E/C
1. Chapter 1

_Brief Summary: Orphaned at a young age, her dying father's wish was for her to marry the man courting her so that she had the chance at living happily ever after. Now Christine stands in the world married to a 'brave' captain and kept in an empty home forever to abide by the rules that govern her society. Yet when she convinces her husband to allow her to join him on an expedition, she is opened up into a strange new world. As they travel onward, she meets and befriends a strange cast of people aboard the ship. However, there is one that evades her understanding and mysteriously draws her closer to him. Though her husband has now grown suspicious, both outer and inner forces have made the two forever entwined. But is the force of a violent man who will stop at nothing to separate them enough?_

_Extra Note: Though Christine is married to Raoul in the beginning, we are entirely anti-R/C. We hate the fop's guts. Just don't worry, it will all get better really soon._

F: Okay, let's start off this depressing list. I do not own _Phantom of the Opera_, and if I did I would have Raoul burn to death in the fire and Christine go with Erik. I do not own any of _Phantom's_ characters, nor do I want to. I don't own…

R: Say it…

F: I do not own… *lets out a sob* I do not own…

R: _Say it_!

F: *wails* I don't own Erik the sex-god! *goes off into a corner to recover from the trauma*

R: *sighs in frustration* Hello everyone. I'm dreaming of ravens at night, and 'F' over there is Le Fantome Victorien. This is our story, I'm showing up for the author's notes. I get to fully write the next one! *smiles evilly, ignoring Fantome's crying* Think of this like _Roses of Life_. Anyway, hope you all enjoy the chapter.

* * *

_The Forlorn Sea_

_Part I: The Life Before_

_Beginning_

* * *

With heated rays of the sun masked occasionally by the veil of a cloud, one could see from the skies the busy port of London. It was there that ships docked and loaded or unloaded cargo while each boat's crew moved onto land for some refreshing air and what they considered harmless fun before the mistress of Poseidon called for their return. A buzz caused from constant conversation always filled the air along with the clamor of horses pulling carriages, rope being pulled and tied and stretched to ensure a ship's safety, and the accenting of men's grunts as they lifted heavy loads. This is what surrounded the port daily, and made any British sailor feel safe and at home.

As the sun's bright beams bounced off the clear blue water, a ship docked in the port by the name of the HMS _Serenity_. As ropes were tied down to keep the ship in place, a gangplank was lowered. Though the first down was some sailor's carrying rather heavy-looking loads, a well decorated man soon strode happily down the plank. A smile graced his features as he stepped onto the solid wood of the dock and he turned to wait as another man soon joined him. He removed his hat to greet the man, and with the removal of the accessory one could truly see his features.

He was handsome, that much any passing woman could tell you. He had a defined profile and soft features. His light brown eyes had a gleam of happiness and triumph in them as he strode down the dock with the other man up to the main boardwalk. His hair, though appearing a light brunette color in a passing glance, was a dirty blond upon closer inspection that he kept tied back with a thin ribbon. It no doubt belonged to a woman he was either courting or already married to, and tying his hair back with it was his way of keeping the trinket close to him.

But, despite all of his attractive features, there was a look of slight irritation on his face that caused some people to avoid his gaze. If anyone chose to listen in on the conversation between him and the man beside him, one would quickly discover why. "I just don't understand it, James. I informed her prior to my arrival that it was only going to be a few more days until I came home to London and here, then she goes and writes me a letter saying that she had decided to stay with the _Giry_ family while she awaited my return."

"Perhaps she is just overwhelmed with everything, like most women tend to do, Sir. After all, you had set off to sea just a mere few hours after your wedding," the man replied in a monotone. It was clear that they had discussed this topic before.

"That is true, James, but I sent her a letter shortly after I left explaining the situation. She knows that, as Captain to one of Her Majesty's ships, I may be called to duty at a moment's notice. She learned of this during the four years that I was courting her. Not to mention I don't understand why she wouldn't want to stay in our lovely home. After all the time and money I put into it just so that she could be as comfortable and at home as possible, she just goes up and leaves it without even my consent!"

"Well, Sir," the man named James explained calmly, "you were more than aware that she was anything but…normal. If I recall, that was one of the reasons why you wished to marry her."

"Now it's just a hassle," he groaned, pressing the palm of his hand gently against his aching head. It had been a long trip since he had left then returned to England. The last thing he was expecting upon his arrival home was for his bride to disappear as well.

Seeing a florist's shop up ahead, the young man strolled ahead and quickly bought the largest bouquet that the owner sold before hailing a carriage-for-hire. "Wish me luck, James," he said, stepping into the cushioned booth. "God above only knows what I will be receiving when I go to her." With that, he closed the door firmly and rapped the ceiling. Leaning back into the comfortable seat, he stared out as the passing scenery as he thought of his wife. True, he wasn't being particularly fair to her, but she was a woman. If it wasn't for people like him, women like her would have been lost in the world. The fact that he fell in love with her too merely helped make everything easier.

Smirking to himself, he could not deny that being a sailor did have some perks, despite how upset his beloved got over it. He hardly needed to be home, and could enjoy the pleasures of life without her knowledge. Yes, it was bad timing with him leaving before he could even take pleasure in their wedding night, but he could easily make up for it. Of course, he would then have to set sail shortly after, but something told him that he wouldn't mind as much this time around.

As the carriage continued it's trek away from the busy docks and onto the even busier cobblestone streets of London, he only wished that he would not be turned away by her while she stayed at her friend's house. Though he loved her greatly, he did not know how long he would be willing to continue playing her games.

* * *

At a lovely two-story house located on the far side of London, three women sat together while enjoying afternoon tea. Two of them were in their early twenties and the other one a proud mother all chattered happily as they sipped at their tea and snacked on small scones and other similar treats. A vibrant and joyful air surrounded the group as a petite woman with chocolate curls laughed. Taking her fork, she broke off a piece of cake and bit into the delicious substance while she told the young blonde beside her of her latest adventure through the market.

Her story was brought to an abrupt halt though as the older woman scolded her for her lack of manners. She lectured her on how it was extremely 'unlady-like' to talk with her mouth full, showing to the whole world the mashed food she was about to consume. Her friend began to gloat in the feat of getting by without harsh words, but she had opened her mouth too soon. Both of the girls soon fell into fits of laughter.

Much time had passed since the last visit from the brunette and that was during the time her father was gravely ill, when she was still a young child. He soon passed away and she was placed in the system. Shifting to and from each new family, each new home, grew heavily on the poor child, yet she still maintained her positive outlook on life. Her friend, Meg Giry, and her mother, Antoinette, managed to stayed in contact over the years.

Now it was pleasant to sit in the familiar house of the Giry family and indulge in a bit of fun. The smell of lavender from a nearby park was a relief from the fumes of the sewers below these days produced. Recognizable clatter of tea cups being placed back in the pantry sent her back to the time when her father and her would come on a regular basis and the two older folks would talk and the little girls would play in the gardens.

It was with this love that was like a family that Antoinette was more than welcoming upon the brunette's arrival. Already she had spent several weeks with them, enjoying their company and conversations as she awaited the arrival of her husband, the gallant Captain of the HMS _Serenity_.

As the old grandfather clock that was placed in the hall chimed seventeen times for the hour, the two younger women discussed Meg's newest infatuation while Antoinette contently washed and put away the dishes into a well-used cabinet. The two girls erupted into another fit of laughter as Meg attempted to describe her love, but the delicate chiming of the door's bell interrupted their mirth.

Drying her hands off, Antoinette left the room and walked into the hallway. Approaching the door, she opened it only to find her guest's husband glaring off into space. Suddenly, he seemed to notice that the door had opened and hurriedly lifted a large bouquet of roses and tulips. An apologetic and charming smile was on his face, but Antoinette could tell that it was just an illusion.

"Oh? How pretty," she said pleasantly. "But I believe that you do not mean them for me."

"Where's Christine," he demanded, all kindness from earlier disappearing as he pulled the bouquet away only to glare and scowl at the older woman.

"In here, Raoul, where else? Though I cannot say that I can hardly blame her," she explained, the tone of her voice showing the man just how unfazed she was by his attempt at intimidation. "So what is your grand excuse this time?" she questioned. "Or, are you going to use the same one you always feed her?"

"Get out of my way, woman. I've no time for your games," Raoul hissed, pushing past the older woman and entering the house without bothering for permission. _At least we know that he's not a vampire_, Antoinette thought with amusement as she followed after the irritated man as he made his way into the small kitchen.

Upon seeing his wife, Raoul frowned in a disapproving manner before setting the flowers down and walking up to her. "Christine, why were you not home, waiting for my safe return?" he demanded, though the soft and hurt voice he used made it sound more like an innocent question. Antoinette, having just entered the room, rolled her eyes.

"I could hardly stay in that stuffy place you call a home. Besides, I was getting restless and thought visiting the Girys would brighten my mood. It worked," she said cheerfully, avoiding the annoyed thoughts her husband was showing in his eyes. She never understood her husband's reactions whenever she did something, anything for that matter. From the nervous chatter he produced after taking a stroll outside on her insistence, to professing his love to her, often times assisted with sweets, upon returning home from a long voyage at sea. Christine thought it was just how he was during the times they would meet each other while courting at first. But as time passed it only seemed odd from a person of such high stature. Especially with the recognition he gained at sea amongst other sailors, and possibly a few pirates.

As she thought of all this, she quickly turned hostile and snapped at him. "You can't just leave me at home and expect me to welcome you back after your 'long and arduous journey' that you supposedly survived from. I am not some prize you can showcase to the ladies and their beaus at galas." Rising from her chair she thanked the family for their hospitality, then left the man staring in her wake. Christine was tired of all the tall tales her husband bestowed unto her each time he left, then came back with an even larger story.

_That man is insufferable at times, I swear,_ she thought as she climbed up into the carriage. Leaning into a comfortable spot by a window, she began to brood in silence as she waited. It was at times like these that she wondered why she ever married the man. True, he was young, charming, handsome, and every girl's fondest dream. Though what those same girls did not consider were the other aspects that he carried: arrogance, quick temperament, over protectiveness, and she found it extremely difficult to overlook his drinking habits. She had lost count on how many times he returned home after a night out with liquor on his breath, a slur on his tongue, and clueless as to who she was.

She let out an exasperated sigh, waiting for her husband-in-question to finally come after her. It didn't take long for her wish to be granted.

"Now, Christine, let's just calm down and think about this," Raoul called out, exiting the house without the flowers but with Antoinette and Meg close on his heels.. "Is there really any need to be this upset, dear? I've been writing letters to you, explaining the estimated time of my arrival home. You would have had plenty of time to come and visit your…_friends_," he explained, saying the last word with such disgust that it seemed he was about to be sick. To both Christine and her friends, his opinions were more than clear when it came to the upper-middle class Girys.

Ignoring his comment, Antoinette walked past the aggravated blond and peered into the window, smiling warmly at Christine. "You are more than welcome to come visit whenever you like. Our door is always opened."

"To the occasional beggar, no doubt," Raoul commented before climbing into the carriage and slamming the door shut behind him. "Good day, Madam," he said gruffly, not even allowing his wife the pleasure of a farewell before he ordered the coachman to bring them back to his estate.

As their ride passed in silence, Raoul stared at his wife as she gazed out the window instead. "Christine, my dear, my beloved," he crooned, reaching out a gloved hand to rest over hers as it rested in her lap. His fingers wrapped around the pale hand, his thumb rubbing over the top as he leaned in close to her. "I'm here now, isn't that what matters? You know I'm a busy man; Her Majesty needs one of her finest captains to help keep the trading waters safe as well as deliver her most valuable goods." When Christine still did not turn to face him, he frowned slightly before using his spare hand to reach into his decorated coat. "Look what I've brought for you, pet," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Christine turned her head to look at him, thinking that it finally would quiet him so that she could mope in peace. Once her eyes noticed a velvet box, Raoul smiled and opened it, revealing a rather large sapphire cut into a drop shape. Taking the trinket out, she noticed that it was held by a thin, almost web-like silver chain.

"We recovered it from a ship, and I just knew that you'd love it," he explained before opening the clasp. Reaching behind her, he reattached it so that it hung delicately from around her neck. Leaning back, he gazed at her approving, allowing his eyes to linger in her cleavage where the jewel rested before returning to his earlier position. Rubbing the top of her hand once against with his thumb, he whispered sweet words to her.

"You know I only love you, my dear. I've even put in a request to Her Majesty to allow me a slight break so that I may spend some time with my beautiful wife. We've yet to properly enjoy our wedding night, after all the times I've been called to duty," he whispered, lifting his hand to gently trace the curve of her neck as he studied her face like one would gaze upon a piece of art. "You know that there is a gala tonight my brother is hosting as well, and I was hoping that you'd grace everyone with your exquisite presence, my darling."

She gave him a strained smile. "Of course."

* * *

A/N: I'm just going to go right out a say this: I hate R/C pairing and I do believe that Raoul is the biggest fop in this and the next world, but it's needed for now. Don't worry, things will get better really soon. Please review! Hopefully I will see some people for the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

F: *is twirling and dancing around in little circles while singing* Hey, boy, sailor boy!

R: Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to our story. As I'm sure you're more than able to tell, this is our second chapter.

F: *swaying back and forth now before prancing around on soles of feet* Point it snuggly harbor! Open the gate, but dock it straight. I see it leans to starboard.

B: *oblivious to Fantome in background* First off, we'd like to thank the few people that have reviewed. Normally, we have to wait at least a week to get a review. Yet got one a day after putting it up.

F: *still singing* He means to marry me Monday, what shall I do, I'd rather die! I swallow poison on Sunday, that's what I'll do. I'll get some lime.

B: It has also come to my attention that Fantome was being a lazy writer and did not put up the inner summary. So I…nicely…told her to add it. So now that's up there as well.

F: *jumping randomly from points in the song* If he should marry me Monday, I'll die of fright. It's Friday, virtually Sunday, what will we do with time so brief.

R: *watching this lovely bit of idiocy*

F: Behind the curtain quick! I think I heard a click. It's the gate, it's the gate—

R: We don't have a gate!

F: …How'd you know about the song?

R: *face palm* What are you doing?

F: Singin'.

R: Well, I'm trying to do the a/n. So a little help would be appreciated.

F: …Anthony's such a stalker creep.

R: This is Phantom of the Opera!

F: Raoul is one too! Every good movie has one.

R: You know what? I'm just going to ignore you for now. Readers, please enjoy the chapter.

* * *

_The Forlorn Sea_

_An Excuse Backfires_

* * *

The rest of the ride back to the manor Christine half-listened to Raoul and his compliments to her. She would feel his loving hands stroke her arms while his brown eyes stayed fixated on her. Every so often she would smile to both please him and show that she was listening to what he was saying. Once in awhile, this earned her a kiss on the cheek.

As he continued to shower her in flattery and words of love, her thoughts drifted elsewhere. Even though Raoul insisted that he would be granted a temporary pardon from Her Majesty, something told Christine that it was incredibly unlikely. He was always being called away, whether he wanted to be or not, and there was no stopping of it. Despite all that, the thought of one day sailing on a vessel excited her. Thoughts of some exotic land hidden past the miles of water, just waiting for her discovery, caused her heart to beat faster. Secretly, she hoped one day that Raoul would invite her on a short cruise. Even though it had been years since she had been on any type of boat, the tragic incident of her childhood wasn't going to stop her.

Unconsciously, she touched her earrings with her free hand. They were her mother's and it was all that had remained of the woman. Along with the trinkets were her father's violin and his favorite hat. Though she didn't know how to play and wearing a man's hat was considered strange for a woman, Christine was unable to part with the items. Some people found them trifle things, and constantly insisted that she do away with them, but she found herself unable to each and every time. They held too much value to her, reminded her too much of her childhood that she longed for again.

Tears stung at her eyes, causing her vision to blur slightly and she turned her head away so that Raoul would not see her upset. It distressed him to see her in such a state. She wanted to forget the past and move on to her content life with Raoul, yet the ghosts refused to simply vanish from the recesses of her mind. Being a young girl when it happened, she blamed herself on the matter and no amount of condolences could sway her judgment. Raoul, sweet and kind as he was, would simply hold her after attempting to get her to talk about it, believing it would make her feel better.

Thinking of this reminded her of when she lived with the Girys. Why Raoul never liked or even tolerated their company she didn't know. They were there for her when she needed it the most while he was somewhere else in the world, most likely living his life up to its fullest. She needed someone and it was not him. The person she needed was her father and his beautiful stories of the Angel of Music. He promised he would send her the Angel when he left her so she did not have to remain alone, yet he never came to her in the thirteen years after his untimely departure.

"Christine, love?" Raoul said, jolting her from her grim thoughts as he waited outside the carriage. They had stopped outside the large home where the couple lived together, and Raoul was smiling warmly up at her with an extended hand. "Dearest, we're back," he informed her, taking her small hand in his and helping her out of the carriage.

As they walked together towards the house, he subtly questioned her about what was bothering her so. Though, to Christine, he was anything but subtle, she evaded the questions and continued to reassure him that she was fine as some maids arrived and took away their things to be put up. Allowing him to wrap his arm around her thin waist, she walked with him up the stairs and in the direction of her room. Although it had originally been the both of theirs, with the man's constant lack of presence the room ultimately became Christine's.

"Now, I think that you would look absolutely stunning in this, darling," Raoul said, indicating a rather decorative dress that he had taken out of his wife's armoire. It was a lovely blue gown with dove-white coloring in the accents located on the neckline, the ends of the sleeves, and the small lace tool in the bodice. "The color of it goes wonderfully with your new necklace, and it will really bring out your natural beauty," he explained. It was obvious that he wasn't entirely sure of what he was talking about, but the message that he wanted her in this dress came across loud and clear. "I'll leave you to get dressed, then I'll meet you out in the foyer in…" he glanced at the grandfather clock placed in Christine's room, "one hour. Until then, my sweet." Leaning forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before departing her side and exiting the room so that she could dress.

With a heavy sigh, Raoul made his way through the house and entered into his own room, located on the other side of the vast mansion. Upon entering the small room, he was immediately greeted by a small group of three maids, all giggling and blushing as they saw him. "Hello, milord," the first one said, grinning at him as she stepped forward to remove his jacket.

"What are you all doing here?" he ordered.

"Why, we're here to help you prepare for your brother's gala, milord," the other maid explained with a playful laugh as she handed him a glass of his favorite drink.

"You all know that I'm married now," he snapped. "You've seen Christine in the house before, I know you have." The third maid pouted.

"So we cannot assist you anymore, milord?"

"No!" he said, quickly losing his patience. "Now get the hell out of my room before I remind you where you stand in this society!" with crestfallen faces, the maids quickly curtsied and left the room before their master had the chance to carry out his threat.

Running a hand through his hair, Raoul immediately locked his door after the last maid left and returned to going through his wardrobe for something to wear. He was secretly glad that the young girls had not pushed him to do what he was thinking of, having remembered the last gala he went to with Christine.

It was while he was courting her that he was invited to a lavish celebration on behalf of a renowned duke. Being of already high status due to his family, Raoul was invited and brought Christine along with him as his guest. At first, everything was wonderful and she seemed to be truly enjoying herself. It all went downhill, however, after she witnessed an assault on one of the maids. The young girl, being extremely nervous with all the guests at the party, had accidentally spilled a glass of wine on a woman's dress that she had recently bought. The woman instantaneously burst into tears of fury and the angered husband battered the girl for her clumsiness. Christine, having watched the whole exchange, quickly put herself between the enraged husband and the weeping maid. She refused to move, even with Raoul's begging, exclaiming that it wasn't the maid's fault that the woman's dress was merely stained and that she didn't needed to be slapped while she had been profusely apologizing to the couple.

The whole thing was, thankfully, ended after the host arrived and settled the dispute. Christine returned home with Raoul in a foul mood and a permanent distaste for parties. Thought the scandal was quickly forgotten by the aristocracy, it has caused a certain reluctance for any more invitations being sent to Raoul's home.

The fact that she hadn't even bothered to mention what had happened last time amazed him, but Raoul wasn't about to dampen his good mood. He was back in London, about to go out on the town with his beautiful wife by his side, and the next morning he was to head to the wharf and board the HMS _Serenity_ once again. Yes, he had assured Christine that he was allowed to stay in London for a little awhile. And he did stay for awhile.

Yet why did his whole being feel like pins and needles when he thought of the upcoming gala?

* * *

The dress fit her, of course, but the coloring seemed all wrong for her tastes. Christine knew Raoul loved her in blue, but she always thought herself more attractive in other colors rather than the wretched shade he constantly regarded her in. She sighed, checking herself in the mirror once again before placing the delicate trinket against her porcelain skin. The necklace did match with the dress, but again, she just did not seem to be as flattering in it as another.

She brushed off the thoughts of different taste into the recesses of her mind. Basing favored colors in a relationship was nothing to get worked up about. And it wasn't like she could go back on her word and cancel their marriage. No, she knew that trust, friendship, longing to be together, and finding happiness in one another were the foundations of marriage. Christine had known Raoul since they were both children and they could make each other laugh until their sides hurt. They played together for hours on end talking about everything and nothing. That was back when they were children, and things had not changed much then…at least, that was what she hoped.

Raoul grew more handsome each year while Christine herself filled out more and became a woman of society. The question that plagued her mind as she left her chambers to meet up with Raoul atop the stairs that led to the foyer was whether or not he was the same Raoul she fell in love with. It could be a change too small to catch by the eye but one that was large enough to separate them forever.

On top of that, there was also the matter of his brother's gala. She knew they had to attend, being close relatives and a part of high society now, yet she loathed them with a passion. The last one she had gone to ended in a completely disaster. A servant, hardly older than herself, possibly even the same age, was attacked for accidentally spilling wine on some gaudy clothing the husband had claimed to be of the latest fashion. Added onto incidents like these, there was the meeting and greeting of others who she could hardly remember, much less place a name to go with the unrecognizable face. Also, she thought they were just for the high class to flaunt to others just how rich and seemingly important they were when in reality they could care less about the person standing next to them. Christine believed that these people only used others to spread around good gossip: hardly what she wanted to do with her life.

Exiting the hallway that brought her from her room to the stairs in the foyer, she met Raoul with a gentle smile. He held his arm out for her to take and she did with delicate movements that were instructed in her teachings on how to be a lady of high stature. There was little conversation between the two. Mainly because she did not know what to say, and the way he was beaming led her to think that he did not want to ruin the moment with idle chatter.

They made it to the carriage and, being the gentlemen that he was, Raoul helped her into it, he getting in afterwards. It soon started towards Philippe's luxurious home. As the carriage made it's way through the cobblestone streets of London, Christine placed her head on Raoul's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her to rest his hand with hers in her lap, lazily stroking the top of it. Even though her head was down she could still feel his eyes on her each time he observed her in the dress he absolutely loved. She didn't want to talk for fear of voicing her true thoughts as to his taste in wardrobe. Alas, he could not pick up the vibe coming from her.

As she mulled over the constant nagging questions in her head, she realized that Raoul was talking to her. "You know how much I love you, Christine," he whispered, letting his hand move away from her waist to tilt her chin up. Oh so gently, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her. "It's only you that I have loved all my life. You've no idea how happy I was when you accepted my proposal." Pulling away slightly, Christine had the grace to blush. He tried to hide his look of eagerness as he stared down at her, thinking of how ravishing she was in that dress.

"Tonight…when we return home and before I leave for the ship…I wish to fulfill our wedding vows…"

"Al-Alright," she stuttered. To say that she was nervous did not even come close to what she was feeling.

The carriage suddenly came to a stop and as Christine remained silent from the shock of her husband's words Raoul stepped outside then helped her out afterwards. Gently leading her through the house, they walked towards the back gardens where the gala was being held since the weather had turned out so lovely. Many people had already arrived and some had taken to the center of the open area to dance with their partners. Upon their arrival, eyes moved in the couples' direction, causing another blush to run into porcelain cheeks.

She gave Raoul's hand a small squeeze for reassurance, which he returned only too gladly. Heck, he would probably fight a dragon, or some other nonsense creature, if only for her affections.

As she gazed around the crowd, desperately looking for a familiar face, her gaze caught that of her brother-in-law. Noticing how a bright grin broke out across his face, she watched as he brought the attention of a woman conversing with some other people to him before walking towards them with her at his side. She was very beautiful: long, silky hair, bright doe-like eyes, fair skin that seemed to shine in it's own light. Philippe indeed was lucky.

"She doesn't hold a candle to you, my dear," Raoul whispered, trying to reassure her as he smiled warmly down at her. Smiling slightly back, she nodded her head despite her disagreement. Though she was continually told that she was 'pretty' and 'stunning' by her husband, she herself never felt it. To her, it seemed more like something he forced himself to say rather than say it of his own free will. It wouldn't have been the first time when she noticed his gaze lingering just a little longer over some of the many women that passed by him.

"How is my sea-faring brother?" a man's voice boomed, shortly followed by deep, hearty laughter. Moving closer to Raoul, Christine looked up at his older brother as he smiled at the two. "And who is this?" he asked, peering at Christine like one would to a shy child. Not to say that she didn't feel like one at the moment. "Ah, it seems that you've finally settled down. Miss…Christine, if I remember?"

"Yes, I thought you went to the wedding?"

"I couldn't, was away on business," he said with a light chuckle. "Oh, where are my manners?" Bringing forward the woman from earlier, she smiled kindly and performed a simple curtsy to the couple before her. "May I present Miss Victoria Worthing. This is the girl I was writing to you about, brother."

"Lovely to meet you," Raoul said. "My sweet," he said, turning to Christine, "I know how you detest these sort of things. Go along and socialize for awhile. I'll catch up in a moment." Without any hesitation, Christine nodded her head and walked off further into the crowd while Raoul remained behind with Philippe and Victoria.

"So that's her?" Victoria said curiously. "She's a little _plain_ for your tastes, don't you think?"

"Christine is perfect," he defended, his whole body tensing up at how degradingly the woman spoke of his wife. "And I have loved her like I have loved no other. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can see better company across the way." Victoria merely rolled her eyes at him, causing a nasty scowl to grace his features before he left off in a storm. Hearing his brother's protests, he ignored them completely as he made his way through the large crowd until he arrived inside. Immediately spotting a bar that was set up for the guests, he stepped up to it and ordered a large glass of gin.

As soon as the glass was placed in his hand, he lifted the rim up to his lips and took a slow drink. Slowly, he could feel the warm liquid travel through his body, and he took another. The drink continued to warm him, making him forget about his problems, if only for a moment.

* * *

Socializing, as Raoul had put it, wasn't nearly as great as he made it out to be considering she knew none of the people. Not to mention that with the appearance of a lack of an escort, men were leering and gazing at her with lusty, animalistic stares which made her tremble in fear and nervousness. After only a few hours of pointless wandering, she decided that going inside would be the best solution and fought her way through the compact crowd and approaching single men. Spewing out apologizes whenever she even brushed against a person, she eventually made it to the room and let out a relieved sigh as the cold inside air hit her face. As a burst of laughter joined in with the cold air, she noticed that Raoul was inside too and smiled at the thought of salvation. But, as quickly as she saw him, he disappeared.

"Raoul?" she called out. "Raoul?" Suddenly noticing him again, she breathed a sigh of relief as she approached the long table where other men were talking. Watching as he noticed her, he smiled broadly and picked up both his filled glass and another before walking up to her.

"Hello, love," he said, handing her the extra glass before wrapping his arm around her waist, holding her close. "Grown bored of the party already?"

Taking the drink, she immediately handed it off to the nearest waiter before smiling cautiously at him. "Yes, I suddenly don't feel well. Would you take me home, please?"

"I was thinking of another idea…" he whispered, tightening his hold on her so that she was pressed right against him. Taking another drink, he swayed slightly before pressing a lingering kiss on her neck and gently leading her in the direction of the door that led into the house itself. She struggled against him a little, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Christine knew just as well as Raoul the layout of his brother's house, and she was also wise when it came to the thought process when he was far under the table.

"Raoul, really, I'm tired, I don't feel well. I just want to return to the manor."

"Oh, come now," he said, his words slurring together as he stumbled a little. "As my wife, you have _duties_."

"Yes," she agreed hesitantly, "but I'd rather it be a…_special _moment," Christine mumbled, pushing herself away from him slightly.

"I can make it that easily, Christine," he replied, smiling. Pushing her against a nearby wall, he rested his arm up above her head as he leaned into her. She could feel just how aroused he was.

It frightened her.

"Raoul…I…I would…I would rather wait until our honeymoon. Perhaps…" her voice faltered as she thought of what to do, what to say. "Perhaps a year at sea on your boat?" she offered meekly. He paused, clearly considered the idea. A small grin spread out across his face, the thoughts he was thinking of Christine more than apparent on his face.

"Alright, Christine, I will play your games. But don't you think you can avoid me forever." With that, he forced a rather passionate kiss on her unsuspecting person. Pulling back, he then took her arm and somehow made his way back to the front of the house where their carriage was waiting for them.

The whole ride was passed with Raoul either leaning heavily on Christine, at a state of near unconsciousness, or making dirty remarks in her direction. By the time they had arrived home, Christine felt weak and exhausted. Though she know that he didn't mean anything of what he said, she tried not to let his words get to her as she kissed his cheek good-night.

Once in her chambers, she let out a breath of relief. The thought of Raoul almost doing _that_ to her caused a shiver to run down her spine. What ever happened to her childhood sweetheart, the man she married? It seemed everything had changed after they had exchanged their vows.

She mulled over what happened before and after her marriage. Raoul, her sweetheart at the tender age of eight, was kind and gentle. He cared over the smallest injury she had. It was easy to talk to him about anything and his presence was soothing. Now a turmoil grew whenever she was in the same room as him. He was still kind and cared for her, but he seemed oblivious to her at the same time.

Letting out a groan of pure exhaustion, she lazily changed out of her dress and into her simple nightgown before collapsing atop her welcoming bed. As she fell into a deep sleep, she only hoped that her excuse would be able to keep away her husband, if only for a little while longer.

* * *

The next morning was strange, to say the least. A ray of sunlight playing across her face as it disappeared continuously through the thin curtains hanging against her windows woke Christine up from her restful slumber. Sitting up, she leaned against the many pillows on her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Though that was normal, what threw her off was the person that entered her room a few moments later.

Whenever Raoul had returned from a particularly long or difficult journey, he always made sure that he was the first one to come see her in the morning before planning a day filled with random, senseless activities. However, the first person to enter her room was, instead, a young maid that worked specifically for Christine's needs. "A-Amy?" she asked, slightly confused.

"Good morning, milady. I hope you feel rested and awake now."

"Yes, I am, thank you," she said hurriedly, slightly distressed. This was completely unlike her husband, and she worried if he had left already for more 'pressing issues'. "But…Amy, where is Raoul?"

"Master de Chagny? I thought you knew, milady! He was going on about how it was your idea. Though, now that I think of it, he did seem a little…confused. Then again, he does love that bottle," she muttered under her breath as she went about her duties. Christine carefully got out of her bed only to continue looking perplexed.

"Amy…what was my idea?"

"Master de Chagny was prattling on this morning about how he was to go immediately back to the docks and prepare the ship so that they could cast off. He didn't seem to worried about how the crew would be able to prepare so quickly, but they've been under more pressure before, I suppose," Amy mused as she finished fixing the bed.

"And…He left? He didn't leave a note for me, no goodbye?" Christine asked, slightly depressed at the news.

"Oh, no, milady, you misunderstand!" the young maid exclaimed as she guided Christine from the side of her bed to her armoire. "Master de Changy was saying that it was your idea that you join him."

"_Join _him?" cried out, taken completely by surprise. Yes, she knew that she had suggested it last night, but it was only to keep him away from her physically just a while longer so that she could adjust herself to the idea. Even if he did take it seriously, like he was now, she expected the voyage to happen after six months at the least! With him always carrying on about the dangers of the open waters and all the battles he's fought, she knew that he always made at least two points in his stories. One was that he was brave man, and the second was that a ship was no place for a woman.

About to question her maid further, she was stopped by the girl's own question. "There's hardly anything here, seeing as he's already packed you up. What'd you like to wear, milady?"

A smile graced Christine's lips as she thought of the gesture. She knew where they had gone, and the fond smile was caused as she believed the Raoul she married did this for her. "The light blue one," she said, a new hope for her marriage placed inside her. It was the first dress he had bought for her when they were still courting, and she had occasionally adorned it on special circumstances such as this.

Walking over to the floor length mirror in her room, she listened as Amy went on about Raoul's plans as she was dressed. "You see, the minute you went off to bed last night he called up Edwin and told him to get his things packed up. He was going on about how he had to leave early in the morning to make sure that the crew could get the ship ready to set off and such. I believe he was just a little tipsy, milady, but he was just so excited that I couldn't bring myself to ask him if he was sure.

"He had some of the cleaner stable boys come in and take your things earlier this morning, and it's all packed up to the carriage. Whenever you're ready, milady, it'll take you right down to the wharf. This'll be your first trip, right milady? How exciting! Ooh, I do envy you sometimes, milady. But you're kind to me and I do tend to chatter on," Amy said before straightening up to survey her work. "You look beautiful, milady."

"Thank you, Amy," Christine said, absolutely beaming now. It was true, she was going on a voyage to see the world! _This is the best mistake I've ever made_, she thought excitedly as she did a little twirl in front of the mirror.

"I'll leave you to pack up the rest of your things, milady," Amy said, curtsying to Christine before taking leave of the room.

Still smiling, Christine busied herself with the task of gathering her remaining items and was done within the matter of seconds. Closing the small trunk, she picked up the object by the handles and walked towards the foyer fully intent on heading to the carriage. Excitement was bubbling up inside her like a pot left too long to boil.

However, as she moved through the house she was stopped at the sight of the double doors leading into Raoul's private library. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she rolled it around as she thought of what to do. She loved reading, and some of the books contained in there were her favorites. The problem with that was that society deemed women who read for entertainment as 'strange'. Raoul was one of those people who strongly believed it as well.

Deciding that nothing serious could possibly happen, she entered the library and headed straight for the place where she knew her favorite author sat: Edgar Allen Poe. Though he was a relatively recent writer, she preferred his books to that of the mainstream. In the beginning, she didn't believe that she would enjoy his words at all. But as time passed, the stories gave her a sort of thankfulness for her own life and all that had happened.

"Ma'am?" a gruff voice called out. A minute later, Christine watched as the apparent owner of the voice entered the library. He was an old man, bent over from the years he had walked the earth and marked by the many lines adorning his face. But the thing that stood out the most was the fixed look of fear and disbelief at the sight of Christine holding the poet's book as well as a few others. "M-Milady, your husband has sent a messenger. He says that he wishes for you to come down to the docks soon, seeing as they'll be casting off soon."

"Thank you, sir," she said, acting the cordial part yet many emotions ran through her mind. Nodding his head, the elderly man escorted Christine out of the house and to the awaiting carriage. Helping her into the compartment, he gave one last glance at the books she carried along with her trunk before firmly shutting the door. Above her, Christine could hear scuffing and thumps before the man finally settled into his seat. A loud crack was heard before the clatter of horse hooves against the earth filled the air.

Off Christine was to the docks. Off to her waiting husband. Off to uncertainty.

* * *

F: Fifty rupees to anyone who can guess where the song I was singing came from!

R: Don't promote other crap!

F: *pouts* You're so like Christine it's not even funny.

B: *glares at Fantome* Anyways…hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Please review, because all writers love them.

F: Actually, it's just me. When we got our reviews Ravens was all like 'okay…'

R: Will you shush it? Just ignore her, she's a very…unique case. Now, leave a nice little review for us both and we'll get around to putting up the next chapter. Till next time!

**Fantome Note: Seeing as November is NaNoWriMo, I will not be updating this story for the whole month due to my participation. To those who don't know, it's NationalNovelWritingMonth, where you spend the whole month writing a novel (obviously) that's at least 50,000 words long. I'm going to give a try at it, so nothing will be coming out of any of my other stories. To whom it may concern, I'm sorry but I determined with this. Thank you for your patience and understanding.**


	3. Chapter 3

R: Hello everyone. Welcome once again to _The Forlorn Sea_. As always, I am your hostess, Raven.

F: And I'm Fantome! Hi, all of the wonderful fans out here.

R: Shut up before I hit you.

F: I just wanted to personally thank everyone for reviewing. And to my own little fan, I swear I haven't betrayed Erik and Christine and little Jolee!

R: _What have I told you about promoting_!

F: But she was so _concerned_!

R: _I don't nor will I ever care_! *smack upside the head*

F: *sobs and goes off into the corner with Erik doll to nurse wounded feelings*

R: Now that the idiocy has left, I can talk. *glares at Fantome* Thank you everyone who read the last chapter as well as reviewed. We both hope you enjoy the third one.

F: Which I wrote!

R: *smacks again* Stay in the corner until you've learned your lesson!

* * *

_The Forlorn Sea_

_Before Casting Off_

* * *

Peering out the large glass windows located in the back of the ship, Raoul gazed out onto the bustling docks and smiled to himself. The day was just as lovely as the one before, and he watched with excitement as people jostled each other for their arrival to other ships or to get a hold of an item that was being sold by a lowly street merchant. Every once in awhile, he would spot a member of his own crew passing through the crowds and his only thought then was that they were getting things done. The last thing he needed on this day was for someone to mess up his orders.

A knock was soon heard, and he turned around before saying a quick, "Come in!" Without a moment's hesitation, the door opened and a man stepped inside. Raoul smiled slightly before walking up to the man and patting his back. "Ah, James, it's wonderful to see you. Tell me, is everything going splendidly?"

"Yes, of course, Sir," James said, shaking the other man's hand before stepping back slightly. "Is there anything else that you wish to do?"

"Make sure that all of the crew members are accounted for, especially the ship's boys. When you're done with that, please send someone down onto the docks to await the arrival of my...guest," he replied, choosing his words carefully. He knew what a superstitious bunch sailors were so he was trying his best to avoid letting them know. After all, it would be ridiculous to have a mutiny on his hands before they even left port. As a result Raoul believed that it was for the best that the true identity of his guest should be kept secret just a few moments longer.

* * *

Peering out the curtained window, Christine watched with exhilaration as the carriage road alongside the docks. All the ships were much bigger than she had remembered, but they hardly stopped her from quickly exiting the carriage as it came to a stop. Stepping out into the open air, she breathed in the smell of the salt water and the ocean's breeze before letting out her breath in a sigh. It truly was a wonderful place.

As the carriage driver stepped down to unload her bags, she excitedly looked about at everything around her. Shortly after her arrival, a small circle had formed around her and the carriage, mostly caused by people wanting to avoid them. Though Christine got more than her fair share of curious or even jealous looks, she brushed them off as she looked around for her husband's ship. She could recall many stories that Raoul had told her of the ship and all the battle's it had endured and one thing he always enjoyed describing in great detail was the figurehead of the ship. It was one of a kind, and Raoul loved to tell the story of how he found it on a wrecked ship somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea and had scavenged it for his own ship.

It didn't take long for her to find it. Just a little ways down the docks was the figurehead of the HMS _Serenity_. The wooden carving, now restored to its former glory, of Madonna was prominent through the mesh of collected ships. Excitement bubbled up inside of Christine, and all she could do was simply turn to the carriage driver and try to help him with her bags. The thought itself, of her now being allowed aboard the beautiful ship for a year exploring the sea and its mysteries was turning her giddy.

When all the bags were finally unloaded Christine turned once again to gaze at the majesty of the vessel she was to ride but was stopped at a curious sight. A little bit before the ship stood a tall man clearly noticeable in the large crowd. It wasn't the man himself that caught her attention, but what he was staring at.

He was staring at her.

Quickly she took in the man to see just how much of a possible threat he was to her. He was, if anything, tall. The man stood a good head and shoulder above most people in the crowd and could probably pose a threat to anyone. His jet black hair was sleeked back, and his attire was that of any other sailor. What surprised her more than the man's features, though the features seemed to be created by a master sculpture's hands, were his emerald eyes. They stared at her, boring into hers with a veil just past the surface. It was almost seemed like she could just see through the gauze, but he purposefully kept withdrawing. There was, however, one strange thing about him that confounded Christine to the point where she was tempted to go to the man and question it. On the right side of his face was a carefully placed white mask, covering his hairline to just above his lips.

Unconsciously, she stepped towards him, slightly entering the crowd moving past her. Almost a second after she entered the swarm, she accidentally bumped into someone. Immediately she turned to the person to apologize, but was stopped as the new man spoke. "It is fine, nothing broken," he said, an accent subtly hidden in his words. "Excuse me, I do not mean to be rude but I must be off. I do not wish to be late with the man I am meeting with." Quickly, he did and odd half-bow and returned to the crowd. It truly was amazing how well he blended into the crowd, what with his height and the dark skin tone to go along with it.

Turning back around, she tried looking for the other mysterious man but he too had disappeared.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" a deep voice demanded from behind her. Christine couldn't help but jump, her voice instantly catching in her throat. Slowly she turned once again to face the man she had been staring at earlier. She swallowed nervously; he was much taller than she originally believed.

"I...um...I am looking for my...my husband," she said shakily. The deep, baritone voice had taken her by surprise, though she could hardly imagine anything else to go with the tower of a person. "Perhaps you know him? Raoul...de Chagny?" Almost instantly a frown appeared across his face at her words.

"What is your business? Should you not be at home?"

"We are to have our...um, honeymoon...while we sail the seas," she muttered, growing nervous again.

"The sea is no place for a lady, nor is a ship full of men good for a..._honeymoon_," he replied. A blush graced Christine's cheeks as she glanced down, unable to keep her gaze with him.

"I suppose I should have thought this diversion completely through," she mumbled, praying that he couldn't hear her. However, fate had apparently decided beforehand that it wasn't going to be kind to her in this moment. The man continued to look down at her, slightly confused, but the meaning soon dawned upon him about her words and he could not hold back an apparent chuckle of amusement.

"I have a theory as to why you're here. Care to hear it?" he asked, his tone slightly devious. Christine was interested to what he thought of the whole thing, so chose to remain silent. "I believe that the Captain got drunk one night and attempt to force himself on you. The reason behind this is because during the last trip all he did was complain of how he had to leave before he could lay you down. Oh, yes, the Captain enjoyed his bottle then describing all the things he dreamed of doing." Christine's blush turned a brighter shade of red. "Now, with him having left so suddenly then, upon his return, immediately trying to force himself on you, seeing as he was so desperate to have you, you went into a panic. So, in an attempt to keep him at bay, you convinced him to allow you a voyage with him where you have the possibility of seeing the world and putting off your duties as a wife a little longer. After all, where is the privacy in a ship full of deprived men?" Staring down at her stunned face with a sort of demonic glee, he turned around and easily picked up her two heavy trunks with her things.

"Am I close?" he asked her before walking past with the cases towards the HMS _Serenity_. After a moment of stunned silence, she realized what was happening and quickly grabbed her case she had brought with her inside the carriage before chasing after him. While following him, she had to fight back the strong urge to snap at him and demand that he stay out of her business. Instead, she took a few calming breaths before quickening her steps to catch up to his long strides. After all, a lady of high society like she was now did not cause scenes in the middle of public areas. _Though I will not hold myself back if he so much as comments on this ridiculous dress_, she swore, now cursing herself for her choice of attire.

Once she was directly behind him, she tried to not appear as flustered as she felt. As they approached the gangplank leading them up onto the deck of the ship, she tried to be the woman of the class she now belonged in, yet she stumbled while stepping onto the wood of the deck. Who was she fooling; she would always be a mere low class girl at heart. How everything use to be reminded her of her father, and a few tears escaped her eyes. She ducked her head down to both hide away the tears and to avoid the numerous stares she was receiving.

Naturally, her attempt at pushing all attention away from her was for naught. Men all over the deck, some even hanging in the ropes tied to the mast above her, were staring intently at her. Some in pure curiosity, others in amazement, a few in morbid fear, and a mere handful Christine could almost feel their gazes raking over her clothed body. But still she tried to maintain an air of dignity and blocked out the many stares being shot at her. _Honestly, isn't one strange man staring at me enough for a day?_

Walking behind the man she had still yet to know even the name of, she followed him up to a small wooden table that was placed a little ways off from the wheel that steered the ship. A young man sat behind the table, a large book in front of him. He was continually looking down, scribbling in notes and names every once in awhile.

"James," the man before her said with a curt nod before lifting up the two trunks and slamming them on the table. He clearly was irritated, and a voice inside Christine's mind said it had something to do with her. "Sign this young lady's name in the log. Put her down as a passenger." The man apparently called James looked up, glaring slightly as the movement of his quill stopped. The glare was returned, but Christine wasn't given long to even wonder what would have happened. James gave up and looked down to the log book and scribbled down her full name in one blank slot.

How he even knew her name she didn't even bother to think about, for no sooner had she watch the ink form the letters in her name then the mystery man's voice called out. "Come along," he ordered. "I'm not your nanny so I do not plan to watch after you all day."

The words stung but she was too caught up in her own thoughts for any comeback to register. Nodding her head in submissive agreement, she quietly followed after him as he turned to continue walking. Though, this time around, they hardly walked much to get to their new destination. Just a little ways behind the table James was sitting at was a single door, and that was what was opened up to her.

Stepping inside, all Christine saw was a hallway with four different doors leading out from it. Upon inquiry, she learned that Raoul's room was located on the far left and that their next destination was her room which was across from his. The man, though rude before, did indeed open the door for her as before. _At the very least he's polite_, she thought with slight relief. Walking inside, Christine could not stop her very breath from catching.

It was a small room, much smaller than the one that had be bestowed unto her by her husband, but she liked it. The quaint room reminded her of her life with her father, when they lived together in a small cottage right next to the sea. She had never been on the ocean for a long time, not since after her childhood horror, but she enjoyed spending her days playing on the shore in the shallow water. In her younger years she would play for hours in the waves while her father tried to earn a few coins. Then when night fell and she was plagued my night terrors, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore and of her father playing his violin soothed her back into slumber. Those days were happy ones for Christine.

A smile, a genuine smile, reached the corners of her lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but she hardly cared for she hadn't smile like she was in a long time.

"Even though you're married," the man said, jolting her out of her daze. Turning, she saw that he was still in the room, leaning against the door's frame as he watched her intently, "the Captain thought it best that you have your own room. Your things will be brought in and put up a little after we cast off. Also, the Captain will not be able to see you until supper has been set out."

Christine absently nodded, still looking about her room for something to do. Supper was not for a long while, and she didn't find much in the way of entertainment. Quite suddenly, the man behind her sighed in slight annoyance. "Listen, I still have to go through an inspection of all the able-bodied and the ship itself," he said, his voice still gruff but a slight softness to it added. "If you'd like to come along, I could point out anything that you might find interesting…?"

She nodded her head vigorously, now excited. "Come along then," he replied before turning and leaving the room. Once they were both outside, he shouted, "All able-bodied men, _inspection_!" Immediately every sailor that was not of obvious high ranking scurried from wherever they were before and ran to their predestined posts. A few young children, no doubt ship boys, looked around in confusion but were quickly dragged to a empty spot.

Feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders, Christine realized that her acquaintance had placed both of his large hands on her shoulders and dragged her forward so that every person on board could see her. "Everyone, this is our _special_ guest. She is to join us on our _lovely _voyage," he said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. "You will all call her 'Miss', and if any person on board has a problem with this arrangement, you can talk to _me_ about it. _Dismissed_!"

Instantly, the sailors went about tasks to get the ship up and running instead of the lazing about as they were doing before. It almost seemed like they were carrying out their duties with a sort of unspoken fear caused by the towering man still behind her. However, it seemed not to faze him as he immediately took hold of her wrist and began leading her around at a brisk pace, rapidly point out various things. He moved far too quickly for Christine to get a good view at anything that he listed off. But it didn't matter all too much, seeing as she couldn't hear half the things he pointed out to begin with.

The way he walked, and practically dragged her, made him seem as if though he would rather do something else than show her around. Little time had passed in this charade he had called a tour before they were under the deck and passing through a small hallway. A crashing sound, pots from the sound of it, came from a room just below what he had called the 'main deck'. Through the crack under the door steam was leaking out so much that the floor appeared as if a fog had settled over it. She jumped slightly, shocked to actually hear a growl issue from the man's throat. _He must be under a lot of stress_, she thought, watching him storm into the room. The brief glance she got of his eyes showed that he was ready to send someone overboard before they even left port.

"_Fort_!" he roared, pushing through the thick steamed that seemed to fill the whole room. "Show yourself and _explain this_!"

"I swear, Erik, this ain't my fal't. An accident, if ya will," a man called out from the haze. Suddenly, Christine watched as a man sprinted pass the door and straight into her, causing him to stumble and ultimately falling atop her. "Sorry Missus," he whispered to her, grinning brightly. "Jus' tryin' ta avoid an early death s'all."

Before he could make his escape, however, he was abruptly lifted up into the air by the scruff of his collar and was soon staring in the face of the angered man he had called 'Erik'.

"Why, fancy seein' you 'ere," he said sheepishly. Erik only glared in return. "Great dame ya got 'ere too," he said, winking at Christine. This got a slight smile out of her and another growl from the masked man. "Don' scare 'er off now, m'kay?"

"Fort, if you make me do anything unseemly for a woman to watch in front of the _Captain's wife_, then I will make sure _you_ regret it!" he hissed dangerously. Turning his gaze to Christine, her blush deepened and she scurried quickly to stand up once again. "I apologize for the short tour, but as you can see I have some _trash_ to deal with. Go up to the deck and ask around for a 'Nadir'. He will give you a proper tour and keep you entertained until dinner that this _fool_ was suppose to _cook_ is served."

"I luve ya too," the smaller man commented gaily.

"I would rather stay with you," she said hesitantly, the thought of facing all those other men alone terrifying.

Erik shrugged his shoulders, muttered a, "Suit yourself," before turning back to Fort. At the moment, he was grinning like a oblivious fool.

" 'Aptian's wife, eh? Bet'er keep your 'and out of your pants then, else you'll get th' cat fer sure," he said, laughing at his own crude joke. As he continued with his entertainment, he failed to realize that Erik had pressed him against the nearby wall and that he was slowly being raised higher.

"Watch yourself, Fort," he hissed, his voice having a strange calmness to it. "If you don't, you might find yourself alone with your favorite bit of flesh long gone." Christine could actually see Fort tremble at Erik's words, and watched in silence as he began to apologize for his comment. Apparently threats from the taller man were to be taken seriously.

However, Fort's only reply was to be thrown back into the kitchen. Christine flinched slightly as she heard the sound of clanging pots. "Get everything done by seven bells or your head is mine!" Turning to Christine, he jerked his head towards the stairs leading up onto the main deck. Not wishing to anger him, she did as told and he shortly followed after her.

His temper had unnerved her slightly, and now all she wanted to do was return to her cabin and think these things through. Her current feelings towards Raoul was that of a wife to her husband, but Erik… With Erik she wasn't sure whether to be afraid or defying. Either would no doubt cause some kind of reaction with the strange man.

"Sir, would you please take me back to my cabin? I fear I will end up lost if I go by myself," she whispered, trying to sound meek and defenseless in hopes that it would not flare up his temper more. In all truth, she knew exactly where it was. She merely wanted to be with someone as she made her way around the ship. The words that the impish cook had spoken were stuck in her mind.

He nodded in return to her request, and he started leading her back. However, this time he seemed to go slower and pointed more things out to her, making sure that what he had said had been heard. Christine wasn't sure if it was out of guilt or something else, but it almost seemed like a softness was being shown through the harsh exterior of his personality.

Upon their return to her room, Erik once again opened the door for her and she gratefully stepped inside the welcoming space. "I apologize on Fort's behalf, for his incompetence," he began, causing her to stop her wandering to look at him. "As well as myself for losing my temper. I assure you that I would never try anything on you, whether my thoughts were in such a way or not…" Christine could not stop the blush forming as the thought of him…coupling with her invaded her thoughts. That was most definitely something that should not be allowed. "They're not, despite what Fort claims. However, if you are ever in need of my assistance just ask around for the 'Master of Arms,' or simply 'Erik'."

Turning around, he began to walk out of the room but stopped himself to turn to her again. "I never caught your name…?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Christine Da-" she stopped herself, "de Chagny." Erik carefully took her hand in his and pressed his lips against the knuckles. It wasn't like anything Raoul had given her, with him lingering his lips against her skin, but Erik had managed to make the skin tingle from the chaste brush. Although why it occurred with a man she was sure was violent and unpredictable, as well as possibly dangerous, she wasn't entirely sure.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said courtly before pulling away. A blush stained her cheeks a light red, and she became nervous for reasons beyond her comprehension.

"I…I am pleased to know you as well," she stumbled. Almost as if she was graced with the hint of a smile, he bowed in an obviously mock fashion before turning and leaving the room. Closing the door softly behind him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Being around that man sent her spiraling into a whirlpool of confusion.

Having time to herself, she now had the time to process all that had happen and to sort out her emotions. While her mind tried to sort itself out, she found a large pitcher of water and stuck her fingertips in it. The water was still warm, and though it wasn't enough for a full soak she decided to take it anyways.

Finding the washing basin she then dragged it out into the middle of the room and poured the water into it. Stripping herself down to her undergarments, she took a few moments to attempt to unlace her corset and thankfully succeeded. Finishing her undress, she then stepped into the water that only came up halfway to her shin and sat down into the basin, grateful for the warmth. Christine took her time to clean herself away from all the grime that had somehow covered her and by the time she was out and dressing she had been able to sort through most of the clutter. At the same time, a bell rang five times and the ship was preparing to cast off.

Christine knew what her place, no matter how much she distained it, was. It was as Raoul's wife, as a loving companion to the man she married. Yet she could not deny any longer that things were not always what it seemed, that much was evident from what Erik had guessed when it came to her arrival. However she knew that if she wanted to get any real information, she would have to investigate the change herself and try to find exactly what caused her devoted childhood sweetheart to turn into the man he was now.

As she felt a slight jolt of the ship being pushed away from the docks and the clunks of the sails being thrown then tied down onto the masts, she thought of Erik. He had a strange allure about him; that much she could not deny. He drew her like a moth to a flame, and all she could hope was that it was out of pure curiosity and nothing more.

Stepping up to her window, she watched as she drifted further away from the docks and closer to the unknown. Above her, she could easily hear orders being shouted about as they continued to move the massive wooden structure through the water and out into the open ocean.

London continued to drift further and further away from her, and all Christine could do was keep her mind occupied with the troubles at hand. _Oh Christine,_ she thought, _what have you gotten yourself into?_

* * *

F: *whining* Can I come out of the corner now?

R: It depends. Have you learned your lesson yet?

F: _Yes_! Now please, please, let me out! Erik's getting claustrophobic.

R: The…doll?

F: What other Erik could I possibly be talking about? *holds doll close* My little darling goes everywhere yet.

R: You haven't even bought him yet.

F: I plan too. *smiles at doll* Just a few hundred dollars to go, and you're all mine, sweetheart.

R: *stares in slight disgust* Ookay… On with the a/n… Thank you everyone that read the story. We both hope that you all enjoyed it.

F: Please read and review! I love the reviews and if you don't Erik will go on a killing spree! You don't want the innocent people of Paris to be killed by a dead man, right? Right!

R: *continues to stare strangely at Fantome* Why do I put up with you?

F: I don't know. I like to think it's because of my amazingness-

R: That's as far from the truth as you could get.

F: *sniffle* I know, but still…

R: Anyway… We hope to see you all and even more next chapter.

F: Buh-bye!

**A/N: This chapter might be updated again because I was suppose to run through with Raven if Fort's accent was done correctly, but I got lazy and impatient. So, here's the chapter. I like to think I did a good job...**


	4. Chapter 4

R: Hello everyone and welcome back.

F: I'm sorry for not updating! Truly, my heart bleeds with all the pain I have caused you all-

R: *hits upside head* Shut up, will you.

F: *sniffle* I'm so abused. Call the police…

R: You know that if you call the police I'm taking you down with me. Now, start up the story before I burn your Erik memorabilia.

F: Not my Erik doll!

R: No, I might keep that to torture you some more. Now, _get to work_!

F: *hurriedly* Hello gentle readers and welcome to another exciting installment of this story. Please forgive any content inside, but I did a similar thing in my last story and people really didn't mind so I'm not sure what to expect with this.

R: Either way, we hope you enjoy the story.

F: *tackles* _Give me back Erik_!

* * *

_The Forlorn Sea_

_Only the Beginning_

* * *

When the town that she had known for most of her life finally drifted away from her sight, Christine sighed and moved back to her bed to sit atop it. It was a long morning, and something nagging inside her was saying that the day was far from being over. As once again she slipped inside her head to continue to mull over her thoughts, a knock on her door jolted her back into the room that was like a gilded cage. Leaping from her bed, she hurried to the door and opened it wide enough to see that it was Raoul's smiling face waiting for her. Before she had the chance to say anything, Raoul pushed past the small opening she had created and instantly moved up to Christine, taking her in his arms and kissing her as he twirled them both around.

"How is everything, my pet?" he asked, kissing her cheek again as he set her down and pulled back to look at her. "I do hope you were given a proper tour of the ship. We can't have you getting lost, can we?" he teased. "Was Mr. Destler behaving?"

Feeling the corner of her lips pulling upward at the mentioning of Erik, she nodded in approval. "Yes, he showed me to this cozy room. Mr. Destler was a perfect gentleman the whole time during the tour as well," she said, conviently disregarding the whole incident with the cook. Smiling at her, Raoul patted her cheek before pressing his lips against her forehead.

"That's just wonderful, darling. I assure you Mr. Destler will make your stay here as comfortable as possible. If you should _ever_ need him, just call on him. You are to remain his number one priority for now," he explained, turning away from her and moving to her armoire to ensure that her clothing was put away. Christine could only nod at his words, although the blush on her cheek gave away the turmoil of emotions inside her.

"A-Are you sure he won't be busy with other things? Perhaps someone else could supply his place as escort if one is truly needed." _How am I going to be able to accomplish anything with an escort around?_ she scolded herself before quickly moving up to Raoul and taking his hand shyly in hers. "O-On second thought, I do not need someone's assistance. I could manage on my own," she swore, sincerely hoping that Raoul would believe her words.

Sighing, Raoul turned to her and gently grasped both of her hands in his as he innocently brushed his lips against her burning cheeks. "Christine…silly girl, I am much too busy to have your wonderful company beside me despite how much I wish for it. Mr. Destler will have to suffice as company for the time being."

"Really, Raoul, that won't be necessary. I can find my way around," she contradicted.

Waving his hand in a dismissive manner, he quickly kissed her once again before heading towards her bedroom door. "Christine, it will be no bother whatsoever to me or Mr. Destler. Come now, my lamb, get dressed and be out on the deck in an hour. I would love it so much if I could properly introduce you to the crew," he said with a kind smile before closing the door behind him so that Christine would have her own privacy.

Unable to say more, Christine signed in both exhaustion and defeat as she went over to her armoire and shuffled through the collection of dresses. Slightly irritated with the way that Raoul had dismissed her, she noticed a dress that he had given her during one of his drunken stupors. Smiling to herself, she took the dress off the hanger and changed into it. Turning to the small mirror that hung on the inside portion of one of the door, she quickly pushed back her hair before putting on her mother's earrings and the necklace she had been given the night before, even if the sparkling brilliance of the sapphire clashed horribly. She figured that it would at least please her husband and hopefully he would overlook her choice in attire.

Hearing a knock at her door, Christine went over to open it and instead of Raoul, as she had expected, it was the cook she saw earlier that was standing before her. "Hello, Fort," she said sweetly, recalling the name being shouted before Erik had stormed into the steam-filled kitchen.

"Why 'ello Missus. Seems I 'eep runnin' into the loikes o' you. The 'aptain wishes ta see ya."

"Could you tell my husband I do not wish to see him at the moment?" she asked kindly, hiding the dress she was wearing behind that door so that Fort would not be able to see. After all, why ruin the surprise so soon?

A whistle blew out from his lips, the note low to show his shock and how displeased he was with her answer. "Sure I c'n, Missus, but the 'aptain won't be pleased…"

"Thank you," she chirped, quickly ending any advice he might have been planning to give her about the man she had married; a man who grew more mysterious with each passing second. After all, during their courting years she was quick to discover that he could easily take a harmless joke.

With a curt nod, Fort turned heel down the hallway and whistled as he left. Closing the door quietly, Christine went to gaze into the mirror on her vanity to make sure that everything was in place. However, hardly ten minutes had passed before the sound almost like thunder erupted down the hallway and stopped immediately before her door. The deafening sound was quickly followed suit by a loud pounding which threatened to break down her door any second.

"Fort, I already told you that I'm not going yet," she said, trying to maintain an air of politeness as she ran a brush through her curls. As the furious knocking continued, she sighed and turned to open the damn thing if only to cease the wretched knocking. Before Christine had the chance to even touch the knob, the door was slammed opened and a furious looking Erik stood on the other side. Blood instantly went to her cheeks as his burning gaze stared at the dress she was wearing.

"I hate to disappoint, Madam, but your husband is squawking about the deck like a brainless bird all because you refuse to show at this moment. Now, can you guess who was sent to play messenger?" he growled before leaning down so that his eyes were staring directly into hers. "I don't _like_ playing messenger, Miss Christine…"

"Well…I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I am _not_ going out there," she hissed, emphasizing her words by pointing down the hallway. "It is not _my_ fault that he sent _you_ to fetch me when he could have easily sent Fort again!"

Suddenly, she watched as a smirk appeared on the visible part of his face and she blushed even more as he bent down further so that his mouth was beside her ear. God above, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck…

"I'm sorry to tell you, princess, but it seems neither you nor I have a choice in the matter," he whispered before he wrapped his arms around her legs and flung her over his shoulder. Before Christine could even register what had just happened, he exited her room and was moving closer to the door leading outside.

"This is indecent!" she screamed. "You, sir, have _no_ right to do this to me! Put me down right now or, so help me, you will find yourself in a compromising situation that I will _refuse_ to help you in!" she threatened, kicking wildly as she attempted to squirm out of his grasp.

Only a scoff issued from the man as his arm kept a tight hold around her waist. "Say all you want, I'm not putting you down quite yet."

Rolling her eyes, she attempted to scratch at the arm that held her, but it had no affect upon him. "You know, most men would simply drag women to wherever it is they want them to be. But of course _you_ must sling me over your shoulder," she snapped. As she continued to be carried down the hall, she was able to see Erik mocking her through a mirror placed on one of the walls. Out of anger, she thumped him smartly on the back of his head.

"I'm sure you've discovered by now that I am by no means the normal leering sailor you seem to have come to expect, and I don't appreciate your attempt at harming me. I'm going out of my way to escort you to your husband comfortably. If you prefer I could strip you right now, dump you in your husband's room, and inform him that you are eagerly awaiting his arrival there," he said, his tone both teasing and demonic. "But…that's exactly what you're trying to avoid."

"You wouldn't dare," she spat, narrowing her eyes as she turned to glare at his head.

"Try me," he replied, stopping right before the door located at the end of the hallway and placing her down beside it. She was completely trapped, unable to help the growing panic inside her as her back was pressed against the door and Erik only stood far away enough for her to shift her stance. He was close, far too close for her own liking but for some strange reason the thought of fighting him off disappeared as she realized just how close he truly was.

_God above, our Lord and savior, quell this storm within me_… she prayed desperately as Erik leaned against the wooden frame of the door, bringing himself even closer as he glowered down at her.

Only after a few moments of silence did he finally speak, "Now you have a choice: be the obedient little wife or I carry out with my earlier threat."

She blushed at the statement. Having Erik see her like that -having Erik _being_ the one undressing her so that the threat could be fulfilled, made her nervous. Although why she felt a strange warmth come along with the nervousness she did not fully understand.

A triumphant smirk graced his features before he slowly pushed himself away from her. "Go along then, your husband is eagerly awaiting you. Not to mention you've a big night ahead of you."

"You…You are _the most_ inconceivably rude, egotistic person I have _ever_ had the pleasure of knowing!" she hissed, glaring at him as she pressed herself further against the door. Perhaps if she kept herself away, made certain that any thought within her head was either the foolishness of a child or pure loathing, then she would remember why she was with Raoul, why she had chosen to go on this trip she was already beginning to regret.

"But it was a pleasure nonetheless," he replied smugly.

_He would say that_, she thought with fury as she stood gaping. Every fiber in her body wanted to take it back, but the smirk spreading on his face told her that it was too late. "Must you twist a wound until it becomes a gaping hole?" she asked, seething.

"So, what'll it be?" he asked her, staring at her blushing, yet furious face. When she still refused to answer, instead glancing down in defeat, he shrugged his shoulders and bent down to pick her up again. Ignoring her screams of protest, he tightened his hold on her so that she could not squirm out of his grasp. Remaining silent, he opened up the door and walked out onto the deck.

"Your package," he muttered, walking up to Raoul before placing her down before him.

"Why, Missus, don'tcha look loike a piece o' art. Quite th' spectacle ya are," Fort said from further down the deck, laughing manically as he filled the crew members' bowls with a peculiar looking slop.

_Glad someone enjoyed themselves_, she thought furiously as she tried fixing her appearance, as much of it as she could manage. When she was done, she regain the posture of a lady and smiled slightly at Raoul. A calm, yet uneasy, feeling set inside her as he stared in horror at the red dress she had chosen to wear. "What did you call me for?" she asked calmly.

"You never showed, and then refused to come even after I _nicely_ called for you," he said through clipped lips. "And now, when I am…_forced_ to lower myself to dragging you here I see you dressed as…as a _harlot_!"

"I only wanted to relax today, and I thought I could meet everyone at dinner," she replied innocently. "Besides, Raoul, it's just a dress. One that I believe you bought me as a gift. I thought I could show off how well treated I was by my husband to the crew," Christine added with a smile. The explanation, however, seemed to only bring him into a fouler mood.

"I called you _for_ dinner, Christine," he hissed quietly.

"Perhaps being a bit more clear would help next time?" she offered out of politeness.

"And perhaps you should do as I ask the _first time_!" he shouted, his face turning red with anger as he stepped closer to her. Stepping back slightly, Christine remained silent as she averted her eyes from the infuriated glare Raoul was giving her. He was humiliated, that much she could tell, and the fact that the entire crew had fallen silent and were intently watching the two of them did not make anything better.

The tone he has used frightened her, and she had never seen that look in his eyes before. Although she wished to say something, desperately wanted to defend herself, she found that she was too afraid to voice the words resting right on the tip of her tongue. And judging from the satisfied smirk on his face, Christine knew that Raoul was happy with her choice.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but it's not her fault," a voice said behind her. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she glanced behind her as Erik moved forward to stand beside her. "She's overwhelmed at the moment, Sir, as I'm sure you know. After all, I'm sure that you considered the fact that she would be dazzled with the idea of finally being beside you on your ship," he explained. "Mrs. de Chagny was simply not in her right mind, Sir, she did not intend to cause such a…scandal."

Stepping back slightly, Raoul stared at the tower of the man, considering his words before a smile broke out on his face and he went up to take Christine's hand. "Come, my darling," he said happily. "You can sit with the men in charge of running our ship. As much as I'd love to be with you, I'm afraid I'm still working through some logs and I'll merely be a poor conversational companion. Mr. Fort, however, have prepared a lovely meal for the crew, so maybe you can derive some enjoyment from that?" he offered.

As if on cue, Fort appeared from the lower portion of the deck and handed off the large pot to a cabin boy reluctantly following him. Offering out his arm, Christine took it and blushed as Fort proudly walked her down towards a somewhat large table. It was placed on a platform that was raised above the regular crew and had only a handful of men sitting around it.

Pulling out a chair for her, Fort smiled brightly as Christine gratefully took a seat beside two strange men she had never seen before. Although Raoul was out of her line of sight, she realized that she had been placed in the seat that directly faced the entire crew and completely made her vulnerable to their leers and curious stares.

"I's okay, Missus. I kno' it seems bad fer now, but it'll get bet'er. Now, eat up!" Fort exclaimed, bringing Christine out of her thoughts as a metal bowl was placed in front of her. Before she could even blink, the metal bowl was quickly filled up with the most peculiar looking…food she had ever seen. Next to the bowl was placed two biscuits and then a small cup of what she could only hope was wine along with it.

"Oh, watch out fer th' weevils though!" Fort added with a smile before following after the young boy to feed the rest of the crew.

"The…what?" she asked hesitantly, staring down at the…well, she was not completely sure _what_ it was. It appeared to be a brownish pile of_ something_.

Hearing a noise in front of her, Christine looked up to see Erik take the seat in front of her. Smiling slightly at his arrival, she was grateful for the block of her visage to the crew as she took up the spoon and attempted to stick it into the slop.

"Thank you," she whispered. Watching him nod in acknowledgement, she smiled again as he went back to ignoring her and attacking the bowl with his own spoon. Glancing back down at the bowl, she felt out of place as she scooped some up in her spoon before dumping it back down into the bowl. Being so spoiled by Raoul had brought her to some disadvantage; one of them being unable to fathom how she would be able to eat the pile of what was being passed of as a meal.

"It's gumbo," Erik explained with a slight smile, answering her curious and confused stares at the bowl. "Usually a soup filled with whatever happens to be on board. Fort was kind enough not to burn it _too_ badly," he said. Christine could not help but giggle slightly, realizing that this monstrosity that Fort was trying to feed everyone was the cause of all the steam and smoke. "But it's some left over chicken, potatoes, and a few turnips. To drink with it all is some wine, and weevils…"

Picking up the hardened biscuit, Erik rapped it against the edge of the table roughly and quickly lifted it up so that Christine could watch a few insects fall from the hardtack. Finding great amusement in her horrified expression, he made sure no bugs resided in the bit of food before eating it in front of her.

"Now, if you don't mind my asking," Erik said after finishing the biscuit and taking a drink from his cup, "how did you come to meet the man you know as your husband?"

"Well, my father and I owned a cottage for a short while that was right by the sea. I loved playing along the beach and in the water. One day it was very windy and my father insisted that I wear a scarf. So I did and hardly much time had passed when the wind blew it off of me and carried it into the water. It was far too deep for me to swim out and get it, but then a young boy came to my rescue and got it out for me. We were close friends after that, and later on Raoul and I began courting," she said, a smile gracing her lips.

"Sounds like Prince Charming came to sweep you off your feet," Erik commented.

"Yes, something like that," Christine replied with a slight giggle. "We would play in the attic at the cottage when it was rainy and at night we would sit together before the fireplace as Papa told wonderful tales. My favorite, however, was his story of the Angel of Music," she added gleefully. However, her momentary joy turned solemn quickly as she continued on with her story.

"We came to England in hopes that my father could join an orchestra. He was a violin player and his music that he recited was always breathtaking. I worked as a handmaid in a seamstresses shop for some time and for awhile my father even secured me a spot in the ballet for an opera company. However, time continued on and I grew up. I learned that Raoul lived in the wealthier portion of the city and we continued to be very close friends until we began courting. At one point I just forgot my dreams and humbly accepted his proposal two years later," by now, the smile that had once given her such an air of ease and joy was completely gone. "My father was sick at the time, and I knew that having me be happy with Raoul was what he wanted."

Erik remained silent, watching intently as Christine fell quiet and stared at her bowl of gumbo. "Do you truly love him?" he questioned, his voice low enough so that only she could hear.

With his words having an uneasy affect on her, Christine could not help but shift uncomfortably in her chair under his scrutinizing stare. "O-Of course I do," she muttered.

His gaze never leaving her form, Erik calmly placed his spoon down on the table and pushed forward his now empty bowl as he laced his fingers together and placed them under his chin. "I have doubts with your words, Miss Christine," he said. "Now, before you get upset, allow me to explain myself. I believe that you did love him _at first_, but it was more of a enamored childhood than anything else. Then, as you grew older he began courting you. However, this was also the time that he began his career as a sailor and, thus, occasionally was not with you anywhere from weeks to months at a time.

"The longer he was away, the more you doubted yourself and your supposed love for him. You were quickly learning that he hardly sparked any emotions within you, and at the time his life of sailing was beginning to inspire and draw out some rather nasty qualities in him. But still, you continued martyring yourself to ensure your father's happiness, which led you to easily being able to accept the Captain's hand in marriage. I'm pretty sure that you would have believed that no one else would've taken you either," he added, taking a small joy in her horrified and gaping expression.

"So, to answer my own question, I don't think you do. In addition with him being as interesting as _sand_, he doesn't…shall we say, arouse you. Thus why you are going out of your way to avoid producing an heir."

"That is not true! Sand is more fun than it seems to be…" she muttered under her breath. "You forget I lived by the beach," she added loudly.

"Let's face it," he replied with a smirk, "every woman secretly wants to be with a man that can start their blood pounding. In a good way, of course, not out of _fear_," Erik said, clearly indicating the episode Raoul had with Christine only moments before. "But, being a woman of a much higher social standing with your marriage to the Captain, it is considered a _sin_ to feel such emotions and it's even worse if you attempt to act on those emotions."

"And who do you suggest on this ship filled with ruffians to aid in this supposed problem, hm? You?"

"Miss Christine, you are still missing a crucial point I'm trying to get across to you. With your marriage to the Captain, you are now forever bound to him with your vows. You can flirt and lust after any man on this earth that you want, but as soon as the Captain takes your maidenhead you are further bound to him in the sense that he could keep you locked up like a pretty bird. And, if he's the jealous man I've known him to be, he will keep you until the end of your days and you will never be allowed to experience real love-"

"I do love him," Christine insisted, cutting Erik off as she glared at him.

"I'm sure you do," he replied calmly. "But I'm sure you love the idea of freedom more."

"What are you trying to say?" she questioned.

"Let's just say that if another should claim you as his, then your marriage is annulled. Creating that bond is what can attach you forever to the Captain as well as destroy your marriage at its very foundation. Sadly, he can still keep you and prevent you from officially annulling the marriage. It will be difficult to escape, unless he gives you up or dies, of course."

"You're making all this speculation only on one occasion in which Raoul lost his temper. We married each other because we loved one another, not just so that my father could die happy," Christine accused before glancing back down at her food and sighing. Suddenly, something he had said jumped to the forefront of her mind.

"_Sadly_ he can still me? Why would you care, Mr. Destler?" she questioned, her curiosity now piqued.

"I will not deny that you are pleasing to the eye, Miss Christine. But, to go off topic for a moment, Raoul is not a good man. He may seem kind and gentle to you now, but you haven't seen him as I and the crew have. That man has a whole other face that he hides behind his charming demeanor that you've most likely never seen before. Ask anyone on the ship, and they can tell you plenty of stories," he said.

Feeling her stomach drop at his words, Christine glanced up nervously at Erik and attempted a smile to lighten the air. The last thing that she wanted was to think about Raoul being a completely different person when her doubts of the man were already beginning to grow.

"Eat up, you'll need all the strength you can get for the first few days," Erik explained. "Hopefully, you won't get _too _seasick."

"Perhaps one day I will discover this side of Raoul," she muttered to herself before wearily eying the soup. "I might get seasick from the two-week-old meat in it," she joked, laughter filling each word as she disregarded all that Erik had told her. They were thoughts that she would save for another time. When she was far away from the man that practically read her like a book and from the other man with the newfound temper.

Despite her prediction of the meat being spoiled, she took up her spoon and ate a portion of the food. Although it was mediocre when compared to the food that Raoul usually had served to her it had a simplicity that appealed to her and made it taste better than any other dish she had tasted before. As a sense of familiarity washed over her, Christine even took the hardtack and, mimicking Erik, she banged it against the table and bit into it.

At his amused look, as far as Christine knew Erik expressed, of lifting an eyebrow and the hint of a smile appearing, Christine chuckled with her mouth full. By habit, she put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to control herself.

"I'm glad you liked it so much, but make sure that Fort doesn't learn of this. He'll get a swelled head." Watching as Christine continued laughing, he allowed a small smile to get past him as he took both of their bowls and cups and handed them off to the passing cabin boy that worked under the very man they mentioned.

* * *

Watching as Christine stood up from her seat, Raoul could only glare furiously at the masked man as his beloved smiled at her escort.

Having spent the better part of the meal brooding about as he stared down at Erik and Christine, quickly stood up as dinner finally came to an end. Striding down towards the lower table, he immediately went to Christine and smiled wanly as he took her hand.

"Dearest, I'd hate to interrupt your… _lovely_ conversation with Mr. Destler, but I simply must have you the rest of the night. The sun is beginning to set, and I simply have to watch it with you before we retire to _our_ chambers," he said, all the while glaring at Erik.

Before Christine had the chance to reply, Raoul dragged her away from the table and up towards the railing, making sure that they both were far away from Erik. However, as soon as Christine began to enjoy the beauty of the sunset she could feel Raoul relax against her. As the rays of sunlight kept her attention, she barely noticed Raoul's arms gently wrap around her slim waist and pull her close against him.

Glancing up to look at him, Christine could not help but smile as the last of the sun's light played against him, making it almost seem like he glowed. It reminded her of when he was younger, when he was the small boy that enjoyed playing by the sea with her.

Forgetting where she was, only lost in the moment that weaved the past and the present together, she could not help but lean back into his embrace. Her eyes glazed over, her mind lost in thoughts of what once was her childhood. Vaguely remembering that it was Raoul holding her so gently, she could not help her mind wondering to what it would be like with Erik holding her. His arms holding her and protecting her from whatever would come their way.

A sense of nostalgia washed over her as she thought of Erik, a man she had not even known for a full day yet, being with her in such a loving and intimate way. Although it was strange to her that the thought came easily to her, she tried to push aside her thoughts as she felt Raoul shift against her. It almost seemed a reminder of who she really was married to.

"Christine, I love you," he whispered against her, pressing his lips softly against the column of her neck. Watching as the last rays of light disappeared behind the horizon, Christine dimly noticed the crew going around and lighting lamps around the entire ship, bathing it in a soft, ever-shifting light.

Feeling Raoul gently turn her around to face him, she forced a gentle smile as he took her hand in his and began walking back towards the cabins. However, he suddenly stopped as he gazed down with unbridled fury at a certain man in a mask. Noticing the anger that almost radiated off of him, Christine stared at both men in confusion as to why someone like him would cause such a reaction in Raoul.

Seeing Raoul suddenly smile, a feeling of dread passed through her as he turned to face her and held her close. Observing out of the corner of her eyes the man that Raoul was glaring out only moments before, she watched as when he looked up at the couple Raoul's lips instantly attacked hers.

Having been caught off guard with the sudden gesture, Christine instinctively stumbled away from him and completely lost control of her footing, causing her to land on the floor with a deep blush painting her cheeks. As Raoul quickly bent down to help her up, she immediately began stumbling over her tongue with apologies. With Erik's light chuckling floating around her, she blushed even more at her mistake and attempted to right it but was stopped as Raoul forcefully grabbed her arm and dragged her in the direction of his room.

When they arrived inside the room, Christine flinched as Raoul forcefully slammed the door before turning to face her. There was no masking of the fury boiling inside him.

"What the _hell_ was _that_? Are you _purposefully_ trying to ruin me?" he shouted, unable to hold back his frustration with her any longer.

"What are you talking about?" Christine asked meekly. The enchantment that the sunset had created disappeared only to be replaced with what was now her life.

_He makes it sound as if he's going to lose me to Erik, someone I hardly even know. I'm already his wife_, she thought before remembering what Erik had told her at dinner. A feeling of pride grew within her, and she found it strange to think that the man who had caused her such embarrassment before was now helping her. However, she could not help but feel immensely happy at the fact that she was not completely owned by Raoul.

"You sound as if I'm a prize you must fend off to keep. Why do you feel as if I'm nothing more than an object to possess?" she questioned, truly hurt at the notion of it.

"Because I _do_ have to fend off other men and because you _are_ my wife! I have a claim to both your will and your body, Christine, whether you like it or not." Taking hold of her arms, he dragged her next to him and forced another passionate kiss onto her unsuspecting person.

Before she could even do anything in protest, Raoul quickly pulled away and began pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders, his arms kept her flushed against him and Christine could only curse the scandalous dress with its dipping neckline.

Gently guiding her towards his bed, Christine whimpered in protest as he pushed her into the pillows. "And it's time, _Miss de Chagny_, that you pay your dues as my _wife_," he hissed moving so that he was laying atop her.

She struggled underneath him, trying to push herself away, but his weight was too much. Glaring at him in defiance, she tried lifting up her legs and pushing him off her but it had no affect. Inside she was panicking, and she knew the situation would only get worse if she did not to _something_!

"Raoul, please, don't do this! Please!" she screamed as she felt Raoul's hands glide down her body before clawing at the bodice. After Raoul promptly shoved down the neckline of the dress, his hand reached out to her covered breast and roughly kneaded it while his mouth descended on hers again.

Launching her body far away with him, the movement only caused her head to collide into the headboard. Feeling the throbbing pain pressing against her brain, tears began falling down her face as Raoul ignored her pain and ran his tongue along the bottom of her lips only to forcefully plunge into her mouth.

Biting down on the organ hard enough to taste blood, she heard Raoul yell a string of curses before quickly backing away from her.

"Stop, Raoul!" she screamed. Feeling the tears run down her face, she tried squirming away from his touch as his hand reached out and gently rested over her mouth. This was not the man she knew, and it was far from the kind and understanding man that she vowed to be with forever.

Slowly, her screams of protests turning into helpless sobbing as Raoul pulled his hand away and reached up to gently brush away the tears rolling down her face. "It's okay, Christine," he whispered, kissing her brow. "You're overreacting, darling. I won't hurt you."

As his hands reached further down, Christine could only close her eyes and try to block out the thoughts of what he would do to her. But it seemed that a higher power did indeed pity her as, before Raoul had the chance of even glimpsing her ankle, the door echoed due to someone knocking loudly against it.

A fierce string of curse words were issued from the blond man as he stood up and practically threw the door opened. "_What_?"

Christine could see from the bed she was unceremoniously left, not that she minded, that it was Fort who was standing on the other side of the door. Quickly wiping at her eyes, she tried fixing her attire someone, salvaging what left of her dignity she had. Fort stared at her, sympathy clear in his expression as he turned to face Raoul.

"I'm sorry, 'aptain, it jus' wos that th' Missus wos complainin' of a sloight seasickness when I wos handin' out din'er. I went ta go check on 'er in 'er room, but she weren't there. Thought she'd be in 'ere. I'm sorry if I…interrupted anythin'," he explained quietly.

Obviously in a storm about the turn of events, Christine tried shrinking away as Raoul came up and grabbed her forcefully from the bed before walking her over to Fort. "You're right, she's not feeling well at all," Raoul hissed before handing her off to the cook as if she was nothing more than a pet he was extremely displeased with. "You know plenty of remedies, yes? Fix her up then take her back to her room so that she may rest," he ordered before promptly slamming the door close in front of the two.

Taking the hint, Fort quickly wrapped a comforting arm around Christine and led her away from the room. Fort remained understanding throughout the trip to the kitchen where he knew she'd be safe, gently keeping a hold on her despite how many times she tried moving away from him. When they finally arrived, Christine moved to the nearest corner and shrunk as far back into it as she could.

"Don't…don't touch me," she wailed, clutching her legs closely to her chest in an attempt to protect herself. When Fort tried to approach her, to coax her out and assure her that Raoul was gone she would shake her head and shrink from his comforting touch.

"Please…please, stop," she whispered through her sobs, unable to hear the door to the kitchen opening and the sound of heavy footsteps approaching her.

She heard a voice speak through the haze, telling the newcomer of the fate she had suffered. "Please…I just want to go home," she pleaded, all thoughts of adventure and excitement just as tainted as she felt. "I want…I want Papa…"

Suddenly the air fell silent save her own sobbing. The quiet was nerve wracking, and Christine almost flew into a panic again when a large form picked her up and immediately sat back down with her in his lap. She tried fighting him off, tried to escape but not only did arms of iron hold her close she did not truly feel like she needed to run. This presence was familiar…someone safe that it seemed she had known for years.

"You promised me the angel, Papa," she whispered sadly, allowing the arms to no longer become bars as she leaned against the person. She could feel the arms hold her tightly, but she no longer felt the need to flee as a hand gently smoothed out some curls before a voice filled her.

Her name was called out, a soft chime that seemed to relax her nerves as the two syllables were repeated in a gentle tone. Although she still was frightened, she felt her fears completely wash away as the voice from before, now singing quietly to her, was so comforting that she could feel her body relax entirely into this warm embrace.

The voice was beautiful. The sobs that had consumed her before were now dying away and she could feel her body and mind quickly become exhausted. But still, the song continued and eventually lulled her into a blissful sleep.

"Angel…" she mumbled happily as she slipped into the welcoming embrace that sleep promised her. However, even when she was in the wonderful dreamland she knew, somewhere in her mind, when the angel stopped weaving his wondrous tale.

* * *

F: *cuddles little Erik doll to face* Yes, mommy's very sorry she left you with that mean lady. No, no, darling, don't speak…

R: *stares at Fantome* …I'm concerned.

F: Go away, she-devil! Erik is recuperating from the _torture_ you put him through!

R: *chuckles* I didn't do anything _that_ bad.

F: You tied him up and threatened to boil him alive in oil! *holds Erik doll protectively*

R: *laughs* Always a classic…

F: *glares* Anyway… We hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

R: Make sure you all review too. Fantome loves reading them.

F: *holds up little doll* Erik does too!

R: And if you don't review…I could just Punjab you.

F: _What have I told you about threatening the audience_?

R: …You actually think I listen to that?

F: *sighs* I'll make sure to update soon. See you all next chapter.

R: Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

R: Hello everyone and welcome back to our story!

F: To which all proceeds go to the Save Erik From Lord Andy Foundation!

R: What in the world is that?

F: Well, since ALW has decided to _massacre_ everyone's favorite masked genius, I've started a foundation and-

R: Don't even bother to continue. I don't want to hear it.

F: But it's a good cause!

R: Music is a good cause too! Why don't you give our 'proceeds' to that?

F: Because I don't know how to play an instrument! *sobs*

R: *frustrated sigh* Where's that Erik collection of yours? Besides, if you love Erik so much why _don't_ you learn an instrument?

F: …That is confidential information.

R: Anyway…Happy reading everyone.

* * *

_The Forlorn Sea_

_The Winds Bring Us Where They Wish_

* * *

The peaceful sleep the song lulled her into didn't last long into the night. As Christine dreamed of happiness she once knew and wished for again, a darkness slowly began to invade her. Nightmares of Raoul refused to leave her, causing her to toss and turn in her bed. It almost seemed as if she was forced to bear through the incident again as her screams fell on deaf ears. But it didn't seem to matter, as in this horrific world no one would even be able to help. His hands were like phantoms, running all over her body but remaining unseen as his mouth invaded hers. She thrashed about in an attempt to get him off her, but nothing seemed to keep him away. His hands would only return once she had calmed down, his grip on her tighter than the last time. Finally Christine was unable to take the horrific nightmare anymore, and she shot up in the bed. In a cold sweat and her body shaking violently, she tried to forget the nightmare as she took a few calming breaths.

The small room, what she once saw as quaint and cozy, now seemed too small. Quickly getting out of bed, she grabbed a wrap out of her armoire and decided that fresh air would benefit her greatly. Putting on her slippers, it didn't take long for Christine to quietly exit her room and travel onto the deck. As the fresh air hit her face, she let out a sigh of relief. Already the remnants of the dream were slipping away from her memory as she approached the railing and leaned against it.

Gazing up at the stars had always comforted her, even as a child, and reminded her of the times when her father told stories behind each constellation. At the time it was his way of comforting her, and Christine found herself smiling at the memory as she let the gentle sea breeze pass by her. The stars were shining brightly down on her, and she was thankful for the soft glow that recalled her happy, though brief, childhood.

"What're you doing up?" a gruff voice asked her, jarring her from her thoughts. The memory of her nightmare, however faint now, still made her weary and she was unable to stop herself from jumping at the sudden noise. Turning quickly around to see who it was, she was relieved to see Erik and allowed a smile to pass her guard as he walked up to lean against the railing beside her. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she said with a sigh as she visibly relaxed. "I just couldn't sleep." Glancing up at him from the corner of her eye, she couldn't help but feel that everything was better when she knew that Erik was there. Though she had only known the man for a day or two, he seemed to cast a strange feeling of comfort on her whenever she was with him. It was a feeling she couldn't explain, and she was surely not going to try to explain it to herself when she barely understood the emotion herself.

"Were you seasick or could you not sleep?" Erik questioned, looking down at her as she continued to stare out at the gently rolling waves.

"It was only a nightmare," she replied as if it was the most natural thing. Hearing the man emit a sigh, she looked up curiously to see that he had buried one side of his face into his palm. Only the white mask stared back at her in the darkness of the night.

"Will you be alright?" he asked, concern clear in his voice as he pulled his head away.

"Yes, I think I will," she said as she folded her arms across her chest. Looking up at the stars, Christine smiled at the brightness the little lights gave off, so very different from the ever-lit streets of London. With the hustle and bustle of the city going on even through the night, the stars were almost drowned out. But even if the sky was clear there, Christine knew that she would never have the time she did now to properly gaze at them in wonder and happiness.

"It's beautiful out tonight," Erik muttered, once again luring her back into the realm of reality. Turning her head toward him, she saw that he, too, was looking up at the bright spots of light.

Smiling sadly, Christine nodded her head in agreement. "When I moved to the city, one of the things I missed most were the stars at night."

"I don't believe I've ever been out in the country. What is it like?" he asked her, receiving a delighted smile in exchange for the sad one earlier.

"Oh, it's wonderful. There're big open fields with tall grass to play in. Then there's the beach and the water. It is all just so beautiful," she sighed. "One day, I wish to return to it," she added with a heavy heart.

"Perhaps someday you will," Erik replied. "A sailor always returns to the ocean, after all. But before that is to happen you've at least a year to get use to your sea legs." Watching her instantly brighten up at his words, she wrapped her shawl close around her and she smiled excitedly.

"Oh yes, I cannot wait until tomorrow. Who knows what will happen!" she said as she tried to suppress the urge to yawn. It seemed that talking to the masked man had soothed her nerves and her body demanded the rest it needed.

"We're docking in France tomorrow for the day so that the Captain may gather some trading supplies. Tulips bulbs, if I remember correctly. Not to mention some medical supplies and some more food. It'll be a busy day, and you need to sleep for it."

Christine could not stop herself from shifting uncomfortably. True, she could probably scream again if Raoul tried any late night rendezvous', but her dreams that were surely waiting in her bedroom for her to return were enough to stay away. "I'd rather not. I don't want to go back there," she explained plainly.

"Come now," he ordered. "If it bothers you that much, I'll stay right in the room until you fall asleep. No one will come or go except for me," he promised, pushing himself away from the railing before walking back in the direction of the cabins.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still slightly hesitant.

"Yes, I am," Erik replied, turning to face her. "What's wrong? Are you afraid of him?" he asked, staring at her. "I'll leave before dawn even breaks out and come back before you wake. I doubt he'll be foolish enough to try and hurt you again, but if you are still worried I'll be there."

Unable to stop smiling at the kind gesture, she stood on tiptoes and hugged him. Tilting her head up, she whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you," in his ear. She could feel his body tense at the gesture before his hand awkwardly reached up to pat the mass of brown curls on her head.

"We should get you to bed now," he said, his voice strained as he gently pushed her away. Quickly turning around again, he walked in the direction of Christine bedroom. She followed closely behind, smiling to herself as they both made their way back to her cabin.

Upon arriving into her bedroom, Christine put away the shawl and slippers she had worn outside before crawling into the warm bed she had occupied less than an hour ago. Feeling her eyes already growing heavy, she settled into the comfort of being surrounded by the warmth as she watched Erik grab the only chair and drag it into the furthest corner of the room.

"Goodnight, Erik," she whispered sleepily as he sat down. Closing her eyes, it didn't take long until she fell into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately, this peaceful sleep didn't last long. Not much time had passed when Erik watched Christine begin to toss and turn, her hands fisting the bed sheets as she seemed to be fighting off an invisible entity. Remaining silent, Erik hoped the fit would quickly pass as a soft muttering was heard from the younger woman. It wasn't until that Christine, still lost in her nightmare, nearly fell off the bed while trying to fight off the dreadful creature that Erik got up from his chair.

Moving across the small room, Erik quickly caught Christine before she could fall out of the bed entirely. Adjusting his hold on her, he carefully placed her back in the bed as he sighed. "What did he do to you, Christine?" he asked quietly, placing the blankets back over her. When the task was done, he saw that she was still suffering from the dream she seemed unable to escape.

Sighing, he glanced nervously at the small bed before removing his boots, cursing himself all the while. Sitting on the bed beside the sleeping brunette, he made sure that he was above the covers as he lay down beside her. Almost instantly she moved closer to him, her mind now seeming calm as she innocently hid her face in his shoulder.

"Sleep well," he whispered before leaning back and falling asleep, Christine curled up beside him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

In the Quarter Master's room, Nadir Khan was pacing back and forth in front of his mahogany desk. A few hours ago Fort had arrived to the study distressed and in a slight state of shock. When Nadir questioned the man, he managed to explain about the disturbance in the Captain's quarter. Understanding the man's concern, Nadir requested that the young cook would keep a close eye on Erik and report anything unusual from the masked man. This "Christine" woman was someone to look into and keep careful watch of it she managed to catch his, of all people's, eye.

That wasn't to say Nadir admonished him. He had known Erik for years before they entered the life of a sailor. He met Erik on summons from the Khanum herself, and upon meeting him he had learned two things: Erik was a man of eccentricities but he mostly had good intentions.

During the time that he and Erik live in Persia he was an advisor to the Shah and Erik was left in charge of seeing to the prisoners. He never left his apartment without doing a full days work, the Shah believing himself to have many enemies who needed to be locked up along with their families. It wasn't the greatest jobs and they both eventually did escape, but the memories remained as nightmares at best.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and when he bade the person in Fort quickly entered and closed the door behind him.

"I jus' checked in on the 'aptain. He's drunk out o' 'is mind. You find anythin' on th' Missus yet?"

"I went through a few things the Captain kept. The only thing I found out about was her deceased father and that she apparently was very close to him," he explained, shaking his head sadly. "Perhaps once we dock I can find out a few more things."

"Why'd'ya think Erik did this? It ain't loike 'im to go an' get 'imself involved with other people's problems."

"Especially with a woman's problems," Nadir half mumbled to himself. "Continue observing, please, and…intervene if necessary," he asked, hinting at more than he implied.

"I don' think we 'ave ta wor'y 'bout that. Erik's a good man an' all, but I wouldn't exactly let 'im get too close ta me," Fort said, shifting on his feet. "Even if I wos a girl who couldn't stand 'er 'usband."

"I merely implied that you intervene if _Raoul_ got too close to Christine. If Erik truly does care for her, I do not wish for him to be hurt and go into a rage due to that man," Nadir explained. Walking behind his desk, he glanced at the small clock placed on it and shifted some papers. "Perhaps we should continue this after docking. I will hopefully have more information by then."

"Well, we're dockin' in France by morning', so ya c'n pro'lly ask 'round then. But…wot if she rejects 'is feelin's?"

Nadir could only sigh at the thought. "I don't know about that. Right now we can only hope." Nodding his agreement, Fort quickly wished Nadir a pleasant evening before leaving the room and going to his own hammock amongst the rest of the working sailors.

* * *

Being on a ship had made Christine realize how many things she had taken for granted back in the lively, if somewhat lonesome, de Chagny home. Though she had been raised in a state of near poverty with her father, it did not take long for her to get use to the added pleasure of a higher class living. But it was the simple things, such as curtains blocking the sun's rays from pestering her in her sleep, that she missed the most onboard the _Serenity_.

Christine turned away from the sunlight, burying her head into the warm thing that was beside her. Still trying to retain whatever minutes left of rest she could savage, she wrapped her arms around the object and pulled it closer. A small smile played across her lips as she was warmed, thankful for a sanctuary against the brisk sea breeze.

However she could not fight off waking for much longer and with a sigh she forced her eyes to open. The first thing she saw was a chest. Staring at the foreign thing, she slowly lifted her head up and saw that it was Erik sleeping peacefully beside her. Praying that her movements wouldn't wake him, she carefully moved her arms away from his body and kept them beside her. Although she was trying her best not to blush, she couldn't help but feel peaceful with him this close. True, other emotions were present, but the thoughts of her being married forced her not to dwell on the foreign feelings for long.

As Erik shifted in his sleep, no doubt beginning to enter the waking world, Christine couldn't help but notice his face. For the first time since she met him it appeared peaceful and she found herself thinking, with a feeling that surely must have been the incarnation of sin, that it was even handsome when not contorted with anger and frustration.

Hearing a soft groan from the man, she nearly yelped as his arm wrapped around her and dragged her closer. The exposed side of his face, the one she had been admiring only moments before, was now buried in her brown curls before his body rested once again. Blood immediately rushed into her cheeks as Christine tried to wriggle free from his grasp. She felt smothered against him and, although the feeling was growing comfortable to where she didn't want to move, something was nagging in the back of her mind. As she mulled over what to do, Erik shifted as suddenly as he had the last time. His head now moved to rest beside her neck, his warm breath floating past her skin as his grip on her loosened. His arm still remained wrapped around her, but the gesture seemed more gentle and affectionate than before.

Sighing in relief, Christine attempted to move from the bed but was stopped by the arm. Even though it seemed perfectly relaxed when draped over her they became steel bars when she tried to move away. Smiling, she decided that it was probably for the better if she waited for him to wake as well and as she settled back down she allowed herself to move closer. Surely if their relationship was nothing more than a friendship at best than these gestures would be like one an affectionate brother would give…right?

"Christine…" Erik murmured, still caught in the web of his dreams as his head lifted up slightly. His lips brushed against her forehead, causing her eyes to open wide at the loving gesture as his head fell back down. Despite the borderline indecency of the whole thing, Christine couldn't help but bask in it.

She would've remained that way the whole morning, in fact, if it wasn't for her growling stomach. Begrudgingly, she managed to carefully extract herself from Erik's arms and quickly dress in a simple gown that she could manage herself before closing the door behind her.

After leaving her room, she made her way quickly out of the hallway and out into the open air. The breeze flowed past her, smelling strongly of salt as she smiled brightly. She watched as a few sailors traversed netting and wooden beams, standing high above her as they lowered the sails for the breeze to guide them onward. Walking through the deck, she quickly found the door leading down into the ship's hull and entered it. The gas lamps that lined the hall were all put out, instead the portholes opened wide to let the fresh air in. A few doors down she could hear the busy sounds of the kitchen, the only place she knew how to get to besides her room, and smiled as Fort beckoned her in.

"Coo, lookie 'ere. Wos goin' on with ya, Missus? Didja get any sleep la's noight?" Fort asked, wildly moving his hand which contained a ladle dripping in some sort of oatmeal back and forth from her to the kettle where the food was being cooked.

"I slept fairly well, thank you," Christine replied, smiling brightly as she took a seat down at a small table where Fort most likely ate his own meals. "I am kind of hungry, though. Sorry if it's a little late for breakfast."

"Es no pro'blem, Missus," he assured, grabbing a metal bowl with his free hand and placing it before her. "Eat up now, ya lit'le twig," he said as he plopped down several ladles of the food. "Where I come from, our women ain't as tiny as you. They's noice an' filled out. Now 'ere's a spoon, take it an' tell me 'bout wot you think o' this 'ere ship. 'Ow wos yer noight?"

"Let's see," she said, taking a spoon of the food, "after…the incident I couldn't sleep. I went out and watched the stars. Then Erik joined me since he was out there already. We talked for a bit then I went back in my room and slept," she shrugged, eating the soup as Fort stared at her credulously. She didn't understand why, it seemed like a normal enough night.

" 'E didn't…try nuthin' roight?"

Christine stared at him, clearly confused. "Try nothing? What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Ya know…loike, force 'imself on yer un'specting person?"

Christine instantly paled at his words and she shook her head. "No, of course not. Could we please not talk about this now?" she asked quietly.

"Roight. Sor'y Missus, I jus' wor'y fer ya. Now eat that 'hole thing, ya look loike skin an' bones."

She was hesitant to comply but her stomach gave her little options. Quickly eating what was left of the meal, Christine gave a strained smile of approval to Fort. Though the food was far from great, she was satisfied and now wished to do other things that didn't involve consuming something that was most likely weeks old.

"Loiked it?" Fort asked. "I gots plenty left, Missus. Jus' say th' word an' I'll give ya more."

"No, thank you I had plenty enough. I would much rather talk to you if that's alright."

"Suit yerself, Missus," he said, shrugging his shoulders as he replaced the ladle and grabbed a filthy rag, wiping his hands on it before tossing it in a nearby water basin. "Ya know," he said after a moment of silence, "I got th' perfect person ta talk ta you. Come on, I'll introduce ya 'fore Erik does."

Taking her hand, Fort led Christine out of the kitchen and further down the hallway she was in but moments before. Walking down the hallway with her, he stopped in front of a worn out door and knocked against it. "Nadir, ya old bugger!" he shouted, banging against the door. "Open up!"

"Come in, Fort. What is it?" a voice called out. Seemingly happy, Fort opened the door for Christine and bowed before her as she passed. Looking around the room, Christine felt at home in the cozy room. Marveling at the rug filling the entire room, she took the chair that she was waved to as Fort stood off in the corner.

"Pay at'ention Nadir. This 'ere's a proper-loike lady an' she demands respect," Fort said.

"Glad to see your language hasn't changed, my friend," Nadir said before turning to Christine. Giving a knowing glance at Fort, he introduced himself.

"Good morning, Madam. My name is Nadir Khan and you may call me Nadir," he said, doing a small half-bow in her direction.

"And my name is Christine and a good morning to you too," she replied, standing up and curtsying to him.

"What do you wish to talk about?" he asked, his voice showing his slight concern as a fatherly instinct to protect Erik kicked in.

"I wanted to speak to you about…Erik. I don't mean to pry or anything. It's just… I want to save him the embarrassment. But, please, I don't want you to tell me anything he doesn't want me to know," she said, adding the last bit hastily as an afterthought.

Nadir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't know how much, if any at all, he should say about his close friend. However, it was the way she spoke her words that caught him completely off guard; she sounded genuinely concerned and almost as if she truly cared for him. Recalling the ship logs he had briefly skimmed over upon their departure and the Captain's own stories, Nadir was more than sure that when they left port yesterday it was the first time Christine had ever met Erik.

A series of loud bangs and the clanging of metal caused everyone to shoot their heads up. Stretching out his limbs, Fort smiled at Christine as he excused himself and left the room. Erik's demanding voice echoed down the hallway, demanding the location of Christine. Fort only supplied a mere inquiry as to who Christine was, causing her to laugh quietly.

"So, have you known Erik long?"

"Yes," Nadir replied cautiously. "I met him years ago. You could say we were on a project together."

"Oh," Christine replied, slightly let down that he didn't really give an answer.

"She's the only woman on this whole _ship_!" Erik's voice yelled down the hall with Fort's maniacal laughter following suit.

"Listen, Christine," Nadir said, speaking softly. "I want to ask you something. What is Erik to you?" he asked.

"What is he…to me?" she asked, not quite sure what he was implying. She wasn't even sure if a person could develop feelings for another in the short amount of time that she had known Erik. But before she had the chance to reply Erik stormed into the room, glaring furiously at Christine.

"_There you are!_" he shouted, storming up to her. "I've been looking _everywhere_ for you; how dare you just leave without a single word!"

Nadir's eyebrows lifted at the man's words. _Erik, concerned? That's unusual, if not a first_. "Pardon me, Erik, am I interrupting something?" he said, uneasy and afraid of the response he might receive.

"Could we have a few minutes, Daroga?" he growled, still glaring at Christine.

"I'll just leave you two in private. However, I do need my office back soon," he said before walking out and closing the door behind him.

"Good morning, Erik," Christine said, her smile back in place. "I hope you slept well."

"I did not," he snapped at her. "I spent the whole night looking after you then I find you missing. How was I suppose to know what happened to you?"

_Before you promptly fell asleep, naturally,_ Christine thought before muttering a simple, "Oh."

"It is my duty, Miss Christine, to ensure that I am watching over you at all times."

"I'm sorry, I was just looking for some food and then Fort introduced me to Nadir. He said that he knows you. I'm sorry I worried you so much," she said, practically whispering the last part. Lifting her eyes, she saw a look of guilt pass the man and wondered what if could be from.

"Last night…Nothing happened, yes?"

"Why does everyone ask me that?' Christine asked innocently.

"It's just a question, Christine. I thought you would…know if anything happened."

She blushed, recalling the way he had held her against him earlier that morning. "I-I didn't mind," she answered, her blush implying more than what she said.

Shaking his head, Erik walked out of the room and held open the door for Christine. "Come along, you can watch as we dock."

"Do you think we'll be able to look around for awhile?' she asked excitedly as she followed him, the both of the walking toward the heavens.

"We'll be docked for at least two days and the crew will be allowed out during that time when it is not their shift. I'm more than certain you'll be allowed out as well, but you'll have a chaperone with you."

Christine immediately was crestfallen at the news. It wasn't enough that she was constantly watched while on the ship, but when she was allowed some semblance of freedom she was probably going to be looked after even more closely.

"That chaperone will more than likely be me," he said as they walked up to the railing. "Don't look so upset; you'll make me out to be a horrible person."

"You will do it?" she asked, her smile returning only to be replaced with a confident smirk. "And who said you weren't?" she playfully added.

"Before I even knew who you were, I was given orders to always watch over you. I'll become worse than your shadow."

"Wonderful," she said sarcastically. "At least I can rely on you on cloudy days," she said, giggling at her own joke.

"At night as well," he added, a devious smile on him as he watched the morning fog lift up.

"That too," she agreed with a smile. "I might need helping when I'm undressing for bed so at least you'll be reliable then," she giggled.

"I don't believe your husband would take too kindly to that. I'm already walking on a fine line when it came to the other night."

"Lighten up, I was only joking."

"I wasn't," he said as he watched the outline of a town appear on the horizon. As the ship came closer and closer, people were soon visible and the business of the city became clearer as the ship was pulled in. More sailors appeared from under the ship's deck, some just waking up and others stretching and yawning as ropes were thrown down from the masts.

"Where do you wish to go first?"

"If there's a marketplace or a few stores I'd wish to go there. I'm sure they have something interesting."

"Would you like I inform your husband?" Erik asked. "I believe he mentioned something to James about taking you somewhere tonight. I think it was an opera of some sorts."

"An opera! That sounds splendid. Are you coming with us?" she asked, genuinely hoping that he would.

Erik glanced down at her as if she had just spouted some random nonsense pertaining to a subject he had no interest in. "I am nothing more than a crew member. You, on the other hand, are the Captain's wife. It is more than likely that you will be attending the opera with him alone."

"Alright," she said sadly. "In that case, we'll just have to enjoy the time we have now."

"Yes," he agreed as the ship was secured onto the docks and the gangplank was lowered. "Let us enjoy ourselves."

* * *

F: Sexual tension and misunderstood feelings for the win!

R: Have I told you how strange you are?

F: You are too!

R: *giggles* I know…

F: Ignoring…I hugged Erik!

R: Erik isn't real-

F: _Blasphemy!_

R: -so how can you hug him?

F: *swoons* At comicon. He told me I could have his babies.

R: …It's official. Your weird radar is off the charts.

F: That's not saying much *smiles*

R: I fear for your children.

F: Everyone does! *laughs insanely*

R: *stares at* …Continuing on…Everyone please leave a review! Any advice, praise, or concrit is greatly appreciated.

F: It's true! And make sure you all come back for the next chapter!

R: Good bye.


End file.
